The 76th Annual Hunger Games: Of Snow and Fire
by Bellaisima358
Summary: Katniss and Peeta won the 74th Hunger Games. The Quarter Quell has passed, Catching Fire is nonexistent, and now it's time for the 76th Annual Hunger Games. However, something unexpected ensues, starting with the girl with no entries. Join Lillianne as she finds her way through the jungle that is the Hunger Games and battles not only the tributes, but her own name: Lillianne Snow.
1. The Odds

"Wake up, Lillian! The Reaping Coverage began in the Capitol at least half an hour ago!"

I groaned. My eyes fluttered open cautiously, all too aware my sister had turned the lights on to full brightness. On my side, I could see Juniper, her golden locks coiled around her head, a ridiculous neon green head piece fashioned into a flower perched on her skull. I stifled a laugh, coughing, then sat up, rubbing my eyes. Juniper sat at the side of my bed, jumping up and down like a child. Only, this child was twenty-one.

"June," I mumbled, scratching my head, "Couldn't you have let me sleep a while longer?" Juniper huffed.

"Lillian," She mimicked my annoyed voice, "We can't miss. Besides, you know we have our own reaping later!" She laughed. I shook my head at her sarcasm. It wasn't fair for her to laugh at those kids who were anxiously waiting for their name _not_ to be called. However, we shouldn't be comparing ourselves as fair.

Juniper cuts off my thoughts. "I have the perfect Reaping outfit for you!" She shouts loudly in my ear. I fall back on my bed, ignoring her. I mumble loudly , "I am not wearing your stupid Capitol clothes."

She gasps at this statement, appalled at my audacity to criticize what she feels is fashionable. I feel her get off my bed and pull off my sheets, the cold of the room slapping my warm body. I shout angrily, but she dismisses it with her snooty nose up, her ridiculous Capitol accent thick as she says, "It's not my fault grandpa is the President! Besides, you should enjoy the Hunger Games. The odds are certainly in our favor!" With that, she tosses my sheets to the side, and stomps out of my room, heading to the viewing room to watch the Reaping Coverage. I sigh, and force myself out of bed, sitting down in front of my mirror with a table beneath. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh.

My eyes and lips are puffy, as usual, and I won't be surprised if Juniper comes back to give me some fancy Capitol cream for my face. Maybe she feels sympathetic towards my feelings towards the Hunger Games. I shake my head, seriously doubting that possibility, and my pale blonde waves fall forward to my shoulders, only three inches longer than them. I grab a comb and brush, mulling over what I should do for the reaping. After ten minutes, I realize I really shouldn't fuss about what I should wear or do with my hair. I won't be reaped anyway. I was Lillianne.

I was Lillianne Snow. President Snow's granddaughter.

I slammed my brush down on the table in contempt, knowing that this was unfair. I didn't hate my family, of course- I hated the name. Snow. My father, Wanderlust Snow, is mayor for District One. At the age of 3, we moved from the Capitol to District One for my father to pursue his dream in leadership. So now we reside in District One. Mom, Poppy Snow, is in charge of a major shoe company here in One (we apparently major in luxury items), Juniper goes back and forth between the Capitol and District One as a model, and I am here. Doing nothing. Well, trying to be normal at least.

Being normal with your last name being Snow isn't working out as normal, though.

I wiped my face with a wet toilette from a machine that supplies toiletries, then ran foam through my hair - a detangler- finishing with cream on my visible skin. I sighed once more, not looking forward to this reaping at all. I never do, anyway. Not with talk behind my back about how it should be me going in instead of innocent children. Not that it matters. I still won't be reaped.

I walked towards my closet and spoke to it as it opened, it's double doors flying open. With a smaller closet than Juniper's, mine was just two long racks, top and bottom, with shelves on the floor for shoes. I stood back, looking at my options. I knew Juniper wouldn't want to be embarrassed of me, so I considered Capitol wear. However, my mother was a strong believer in being humble. I chose humble over Capitol.

Pulling out a high rise pencil skirt with a light blue blouse, my thoughts began to wander again. I considered Juniper's comment, about how the odds were in my favor. Shaking my head, I strongly opposed that ruling. The odds were not in our favor. We just weren't part of those odds. And all because of - again - our family name.

As family of President Snow, we are not eligible as tributes in any way.

My name should be in that bowl in the square five times. Yet I have not a single entry. All because I'm President Snow's granddaughter. And I am thankful, of course. I don't have to die. However, having other children die in my place does not seem very humane to me. Juniper thinks its the greatest entertainment ever, nonetheless.

She bounces back in my room, already in her reaping outfit. "Hurry, Lilli-billi! The District One Reaping is in half an hour, and Dad wants to see us before we leave!"

I nod absently as I button up my blue blouse, imagining Lillianne Snow getting reaped for the Hunger Games in an alternate universe.

I couldn't see it.


	2. Rumors

I do not own the Hunger Games. I do, however own Lillianne. Just not her grandfather.

NO COPYRIGHT INFRIGIMENT INTENDED.

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><p>After two hot irons curled the pale blonde locks around my head, I fashioned a half updo, letting the curls fall down the shoulders of my silk blouse. Juniper kept checking on me, exuberant that it was reaping day. She went on and on about the 74th Hunger Games, and how she was so excited that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were mentors for district 12 this year. She gushes on how jealous she was over Katniss, how Peeta is all hers. I just nod absently, pulling on silver flats.<p>

"And I _so _totally know Cinna is going to move up this year-"

A suttle knock interrupted Juniper's babble about Cinna the district 12 stylist. We looked back and saw our mother standing at my door frame. She smiled weakly, then moved into my room. "Let me get a look at you girls," She breathed. We obeyed, standing beside eachother, Juniper and I, and mom surveyed us. She eyed Juniper's headpiece, then her yellow and green ensemble, finally giving her a curt nod. She moved on to me, reaching for my hair, then smiling as she backed away to see my outfit.

"You two look…nice," She said quietly, leaning on a stray chair. She sighed. Silence filled the room as my mom and I stared at eachother. Juniper broke it and spoke.

"I don't understand why you two are so sad on Reaping Day," She huffed, "It's just for fun! Gosh."

I clenched my teeth. Mom beat me to the punch. "Now June," She began, "Just because we like the Games doesn't mean others do.

That's not how I would've worded it.

I opened my mouth to talk, but father's booming voice reverberated from downstairs, announcing that it was time to go. I looked back at mom as Juniper rushed out of my room to reapply her make up. Once alone, we spoke.

"It's not fair," I grumbled.

Mom smiled. "But you're alive and well. That's all that matters." She reached for my cheek, but I backed up, looking away. I straightened my skirt. "It's still wrong." I added. Mom frowned.

"We shouldn't be thinking like that. We should be proud we don't have to-"

"I heard a rumor." I interrupted. "There's talk of rebellion.

My mother's eyes widened and she froze.

It was true. I had, in fact, heard this. I don't know why I decided to say it, but I did. I remembered it was lunch time, and several kids were sitting at a table beside me, making a huge cacophony. They talked about how Katniss and Peeta had been linked to this huge scandal and Districts 11 and 12 were wanting to rebel. I think they realized that I was listening, because they gave me a nasty look, turning away.

"Where," She whispered, "Did you hear that?"

I shrugged. "Around."

Mother opened her mouth, but my father called for us once more. I looked back at mom.

"Lillianne," She cautioned. I nodded curtly.

"It's just a rumor," I assured. Sidestepping around her, I headed downstairs to meet my father and Juniper. I pondered my answer. Just a rumor, right?

Mayor Wanderlust Snow smiled up at me as I came down the stairs. Juniper jumped up and squeeled from her parlor seat. Mom met us down here, a blank look on her face. I sighed.

"Let's get this Reaping over with."


	3. On the Edge of Your Seat

Don't own the Hunger Games universe. Just Lillianne! Please Review, guys! :D

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><p>District One enjoyed the Hunger Games just as much as the Capitol. The excited buzz in the air made this all too unbearable. I had seen how the poorer districts behaved at the Reaping. They were much less excited than we were, and I could definitely understand. I was afraid. Not as much for myself, but for any tribute. Sure, we bred Career tributes - its honestly no secret, even I had been trained a bit - but other kids weren't.<p>

I realized I really didn't like these games officially during the 74th Hunger Games. Shallow, I know. However, I didn't always think it was amazing. As I grew up, I realized how inhumane this game was. It was when little Rue from district 11 died a gruesome death that I grew disgusted. I started to see that the people around me really disliked me for being President Snow's granddaughter. I was talked about in school and in town. My family was not to be taken seriously. We were Capitol folk.

And I hated it too.

I looked forward to see the line had moved significantly farther than when I had first arrived. I sighed. Another worst kept secret from District 1 was the fact that my sister Juniper and I were exempt from the Reaping. Even now that Juniper was out of the Reaping pool, she still got dirty looks. I choose to ignore the talk, letting June blow up in her own room. It takes another few minutes, but I reach the sign-in table. Two new Peacekeepers look up at me, first staring, then breaking into haughty smiles.

"Well, well, well!" The one on the right cries, "If it isn't our only exception!"

I roll my eyes, giving him my District ID. The one on the left takes it and scans it. "Now, now, Manny," He replied, "We don't want Miss Snow to tell her father we're bullying her."

He gives me back my pass and the one on the right laughs. "On the 16 year old platform, princess."

I smile mockingly, nodding my head. "Thanks."

As I walk away, one of those Peacekeepers whistled at me, but being the lady I was, I ignored it. It was crowded, as usual, but very well organized. The largest crowd of children would be the twelve year olds, and the numbers decrease by age. My group is the same its been since I started the 12 year old circuit. I already know I'm not getting reaped, as do others, but as to not raise suspicion to surrounding districts and to just comply with the rules. A peacekeeper opens the velvet rope for my clearance, and nods as I step into the 16 year old platform. I join in the back, between a quiet girl with fiery red hair and dark rimmed glasses and a taller girl with jet black hair, peering over the crowd before us. She seemed anxious to begin, as her constant tip-toeing and neck stretching implied. I kept to myself, looking around at the masses forming. It wasn't even twenty minutes to the Reaping and almost everyone was here. I wrung my hands together nervously, feeling the tension and escapement in the air. Suddenly, I was bumped harshly from behind. I apologized to the person I pushed in front of me, then turned to see who attacked me. I scowled.

"Here to await fake judgement again, Princess?"

Beside me stands the bane of my existence. He is six feet and two inches tall, has untamed auburn hair, and creepy green eyes that mock me everyday of my life. He makes it his mission to humiliate me, to degrade me, and to make everyone hate me even more. This boy has pushed me, thrown stuff at me, pranked me, and has gotten me in trouble with Peacekeepers since I began schooling in District 1. His name was Demetrius Florence.

"Leave me alone, Demetrius."

I turn away from him, only to meet his face again, in front of me. I wasn't going to be let go easily, especially since it was Reaping day. Even though I had learned to tune him out at every chance he had to dig into me, he really just liked to bother me.

"Wonder if you'll be reaped this year?" He sarcastically inquires. I don't answer. He presses on. "You know, if you really want to feel useful around here, why don't you volunteer for the girl tribute this year? No one's done it for years."

Again, my mind swats his words away like an annoying fly. He laughs.

"Capitol people. They'll never understand."

"It's you brutes that don't understand," I grumble angrily. He laughs at me again, putting his arm around me.

"Us brutes are the ones that keep you Capitol people entertained," He responds. I push myself away from him, stepping backwards. He wipes his hand on his khaki slacks. He opened his mouth to retaliate to my actions, but the crackle of the mic scares us both, averting our gazes to the stage. Before it, a woman with dark skin and frizzed black hair tamed in an olive green headpiece tests the sound. After the 'one-twos', her face erupts into a smile, and she scurries closer to the microphone. Her golden dress gives her the effect of scurrying, as it encloses her two legs together. I shake my head.

The woman is Cornelia Right, our escort to the Hunger Games for the past few years. She is known to be extremely happy and ridiculously sarcastic. Everyone in District 1 loves her.

Well, almost everyone.

She clears her throat. "Welcome! Today, one fine young man and one courageous young woman will be chosen to represent District 1 in the 76th Annual Hunger Games!" The crowd cheers and woops, matching Cornelia's vibrancy in voice. She takes in the energy. "Yes! But before we choose our tributes and ask for volunteers, your wonderful Mayor Wanderlust Snow will say the traditional speech!"

The crowd claps less enthusiastically, but cheers nonetheless. My father walks onto the podium, and our eyes meet. I give him a weak smile. He begins.

Knowing exactly what this speech consists of, I let my eyes wander away from my father and to my family atop the stage. Juniper watches my father, taking in every word he says, and is at the edge of her seat. The story on how the Hunger Games comes to be fascinates her, and never gets tired of it. Beside her, my mother watches as well, only nodding quietly. For a shoe designer, she wasn't very Capitolized. I wouldn't believe she was from the Capitol if I had seen her in the crowd of District 1. She was so normal….so conservative.

And it was this very same conservative nature that I had inherited. Mother was the one who didn't like us watching the Hunger Games. She was the one who didn't like us to wear Capitol fashions. She was the one who wanted to keep us home from school when she realized we were the gossip of the town.

I hated that I was so much like her.

When my father finishes his speech, I clap absently, returning my view to Cornelia as she struts to the microphone once more and the two crystal balls containing the names of every 12-18 year old in the district are wheeled in. My heart skips a bit, and then I realize I have nothing to worry about. Later tonight, I'll be in my blue pajamas sitting beside Juniper in her room, covered in blankets and watching the Reapings from district to district. I calm myself down as the excitement around me builds.

"Now without further adieu," She exuberantly tells the crowd, "It is time to pick our tributes!" Another cheer comes and goes, and I look around me to see some kids with their fingers crossed. Really? They were so anxious to be picked to die?

"Ladies first!" She cries, and walks over the the bowl on her right, filled with papers taped together with pink tape. I press my lips together as she fishes around the bowl for ten seconds. Everyone is really at the edge of their toes, anticipating the moment Cornelia pulls out a name. She eventually does with a quick flick of her wrist, and the ominous paper in her hand gives me chills. Even while I don't approve of the games, I do admit that it is a very strange spectacle.

Cornelia reaches the microphone and squeals in delight as she waves the unopened paper in her hand around. "So exciting!" She cries, and the crowd quietly agrees. After what seems like forever, Cornelia's small fingers tug at the tape and undoes it without looking, smiling the whole time. It is when she looks at the name that she does a double take and stares, her smile disappearing into disbelief.

After a few moments, the crowd murmurs nervously. Cornelia rereads her paper slip, checks the back, and then looks at the crowd, laughing nervously. "I- I'm sorry." She regains her composure, to some extent, then takes a deep breath.

"L-Lillianne Snow."

My heart stops. The crowd silences. One thousand stares come towards me, and I look around them, confused. It is when Demetrius pushes me forward that I look into his clearly pleased eyes. It takes me seconds to realize what has happened, and my eyes widen.

I've been reaped. I've been reaped into the 76th Annual Hunger Games.

The girl with no entries has been reaped.


	4. Justice

Don't own Hunger Games, yes? Just Lillianne, Demetrius, and Cornelia.

REVIEWS ARE WELCOME! :D

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><p>You know that feeling of awkwardness and sudden fear when you walk into the room and you feel like you're under or overdressed? Or when you have that dream where you find yourself in a full classroom, wearing only your underwear?<p>

Well that's how it felt right now.

"Lillianne Snow?" Cornelia repeats, shielding her eyes from the sun to search for her new tribute to come to the stage. I look up at her stupidly, staring, then look back around at everyone who's eyes are glued to me. Nobody moves. Nobody blinks. And nobody makes a sound.

My heart is racing as I recap everything that has happened to the last second. Once I realize once again what has happened, I make a strange sound in my throat and my teeth clench. I feel a push from behind, not as harsh as the one from earlier, and I know Demetrius has made me make a move, because once I fall forward, every 16 year old makes way for me, moving away. I look up at one of the hug plasma screens and see myself with deer-in-headlight eyes. I shakily began to move forward.

My silver flats clicking on the concrete below me are the only sound in the square. I look down, averting everyone's gaze, and walk as hurriedly as I can. It is when I near the stage that I see my family, and my heart tugs. Juniper is standing, her hand over her open mouth, making strange noises, unable to breathe correctly. Mother is standing as well, watching me with the same look as Juniper, only tears are beginning to form. My father is beside both of them, and his chair has fallen back. His hands are balled into fists, and he is red with anger. His eyes show the true disbelief only I can see.

Two Peacekeepers help me up the stairs, and I raise me head as I watch Cornelia take me in. Her face changes beck to horror as she comes to terms that she, indeed, had thought of the right girl. Anyone in this district could be named Lillianne Snow. But this was the one Lillianne Snow she did not want to pick. Her smile is fake and frozen, and she blinks multiple times as if she were trying to wake from a dream. She pulls me close to her and the mic, and clears her voice. She recovers her warmth and looks around, doing standard procedure.

"Before I congratulate Miss Snow, are there any volunteers?"

Every year until recently, literally hundreds of hands would raise at that question. Today was not the case, as when she finished, not a single person raised their hand. No one even flinched.

Cornelia was starting to lose her rigidity, so she moved right along. "Alrighty, then," She sighed, pulling me even closer. "Would you like to say anything, Miss Snow?"

I stared out at the audience, watching them watch me with cold eyes. It was my nightmare, their dream. How was this happening? I have not a single entry, I should not be up here! I was President Snow's granddaughter! Surely, this privilege must apply! There was to be a rule against this!

Nothing could prepare me for the actions ahead. Like a lit fire, District One's silence erupted into applause, and I looked into each and every one of these people's faces, noticing that not one seemed the slightest sympathetic. They were smiling. They were laughing. They were happy. Then it hit me. They weren't clapping to be polite. They weren't clapping because they were sorry. They weren't even clapping because they were excited for the games this year.

They were clapping because I finally got what they thought I deserved.

My breathing hitched, and with nothing to really say or do, I shook my head, and walked back to the traditional girls side. I felt like a criminal that everyone wanted dead. Like a pig people had chosen for slaughter. I felt the tears coming on.

I could not give them the satisfaction. I stared straight ahead, ignoring the now tremendous clapping and Cornelia's futile attempts to lighten the mood with her sarcasm. After the noise died down, she repeated her actions, picking from the boys side this time. Her build up time was unnecessary, really, and her comments while she opened the piece of parchment were not enough to lighten the tense mood. After my name was drawn, I doubt anything could get bigger and better. Or worse.

But it did.

"Demetrius Florence!"

Demetrius and I met eyes slowly, me from the stage and him in the exact spot I was standing in. The recognition in our faces said it all. If no one volunteered for Demetrius- and I doubt anyone will, knowing my history with him- it could only mean one thing. Demetrius and I will have to fight to the death. The two kids who hate themselves more than anything in this world were going to duke it out in the arena. Demetrius, who was stronger, faster, bigger, was going up against Lillianne, the President's granddaughter and girl with no fitness experience whatsoever. Demitrius and Lillianne will finally see who was superior in this hate/hate relationship. Knowingly, Demetrius gave a sly smirk as he walked through the center pathway and met up with us onstage. I stared in horror, sure I could pass out any minute.

Of course, no one volunteers for him. They all know what he can do. They all know what he _will_ do. Cornelia wraps her arms around us happily, squealing in delight.

"I present to you your District One tributes for the 76th Annual Hunger Games, Demetrius Florence and Lillianne Snow! May the odds be ever in your favor!"

The applause is deafening. The smiles of these justified people reverberate around the square, their exuberance making me sick. Demetrius and I lock eyes once more when we shake hands, and he knows what I'm anticipating. He winks at me, a smug smile drawn upon his face. I glare back at him, squeezing his hand. District One and any other district who will surely watch this rerun will know what has happened. Every citizen in Panem will either see the injustice of my reaping, or justice itself being made. I knew what rebels were. They weren't on my grandfather's side. I clenched my teeth.

The odds were not, in any way, in my favor.


	5. My Best

My stomach ached. My face hurt. My hands were shaking. I couldn't say a word.

I sat in a blank white room in the Justice Building, a place I'd been to many times to visit my father. However, I don't recall ever seeing this room. Around me, nothing but the sofa I'm seated at, a few chairs in front of it, and a banner with the District 1 logo fills the room. I wonder if Demetrius is in a similar room. I wonder how he's handling himself.

_I bet he's handling it better than me._

After the ceremony officially ended- amid the cheers of joy and Cornelia's goodbyes- we were ushered, Demetrius and I, to different rooms by a group of Peacekeepers. Still in shock, I stumbled into the room, falling onto the couch they provided for me. It was quiet, and I'd already been here for a while. My panting began to slow, and the events collided into my brain once more.

I put my hands on my head, resting my arms on my knees and made a strange sound in my throat as tears began to shed. I was Lillianne Snow, and I had just been reaped into the 76th Annual Hunger Games. I am going to the Capitol, and I will meet 23 other competitors, whom I shall fight to the death. Only one will survive. And I probably won't be that one.

But how? I wondered. I don't have any entries! Was someone setting me up? Had I been disowned? Was there a mix-up?

Or was I just kidding myself? Did I really have entries, unknown to me? The odds could have been in my favor, all these years. I could be wrong. Maybe I was just like everybody else.

A cacophony of words outside my waiting room exploded into my thoughts, and I looked up in anticipation. I wiped away my tears as I began to make out the sound of my father's voice, booming angrily, and things being knocked over. I'm not sure what's going on, but I try to compose myself, gulping back the more tears that want to come out. Sure enough, my father bursts in the room, red in the face. I look up at him, biting my lip and keeping calm. He looks behind his shoulder and shouts, "A minute, alright? I have that right!"

Once the door slams behind him, he stands before me, speechless. We stare at each other for few moments, and I try to remain composed and ladylike- but I can't.

I fling myself into my daddy's arms, and begin to bawl. He hugs me tightly, not saying a word. After a minute of letting it all out, I squeak out words. "How-why?"

He just squeezes me tighter. He puts me down, grabs my shoulders firmly, and wipes stray tears from my cheeks. He meets my leveled gaze and says the words that I did not count on hearing: "I did everything I could."

I feel like collapsing. I guess I did, because my father steadied me with his grip. He got closer, and looked at the door, then back at me.

"Listen to me, Lillianne," He rumbled, lowering his voice. "I don't have much time, but I want you to know that I did the best I could to get you out of this situation. I even spoke to your grand- President Snow. But there is no way around this. You had exactly one entry, according to the tallier Peacekeepers, and it seems the odds were not in your favor."

I hiccuped. He shook me lightly and continued. "Lillianne, you must promise me that you will do your best to come home. You will show everyone what you're made of, and you will show them the great mistake in the odds, and how you beat them. Promise me."

I nodded meekly, gasping a bit as I felt myself tear up again. My father and I both knew I wasn't coming back. At least, I hope he realized.

"And in the case you don't make it home, which will not be," He said, "I want to say that I love you, Lilly-billy. Your father loves you very much. And I am proud of you, whatever the outcome."

I nodded again, hugging him once more. He kissed my forehead, then pulled me tighter. Suddenly, a Peacekeeper was at our door.

"Mr. Mayor, your time is up."

I dug my nails onto his arm, and he pulled away, winking. I kissed him on the cheek, and sat back down, smoothing out my skirt. He stopped at the door frame, saying, "Change the odds, Lillianne."

That was the last time I saw my father.

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><p>Juniper exploded into the room with more severity than my father. She immediately crashed upon me, embracing me, sobbing. I tried to steady myself under her, taken aback by the sudden behavior she sported. Mom came behind her, holding back tears with no success.<p>

"This-can't-be-happening!" Juniper cried into my shoulder, feeling the silk moisten onto my shoulder. I patted Juniper on the back, letting her cry. A few stray tears escaped me. I looked up at mom.

"Keep an eye on her," I said, lip quivering. "You're the only rational one in the house now."

She nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. I pulled Juniper away from me and held her like my father held me.

"Listen June," I started, "This isn't a game anymore. You can't tell me what to do from the sidelines like when we watched the games, because I won't hear you."

At this, my sister was about to burst again. However, I stopped her before she could. "Should I not come back, remember that I love you all. That I am proud to say that Juniper Lee is my sister." I looked up at mom. "I am proud to be your daughter as well."

I stood, hugging them both. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I promise that I'll try my best."

_After al_l, I thought, _my best is all I have._


	6. Strategy

Being only my family of four, I had a long while on my own while I waited on Demetrius to finish his goodbyes. Alone in a room with just my thoughts….

I still couldn't come to terms. How could I be reaped? One entry, and I was up to play in the Hunger Games? The word play shouldn't even be right.

I chocked on the knot forming from the tears I still had left holding. My fists undid themselves, my red hands throbbing from the loss of circulation. Suddenly, I was brought back to this morning's conversation with my mom. How I had told her about rebellion.

_"Where did you hear that?"_

_"Around."_

Rebellion. This could bring an end to these Games. And end to Reapings. To killings. To winning.

I shook off the thought. I wished the Hunger Games never existed. There was a small chance I'd be coming home, slim at best. My family knew that. Being part of a Career district, Demetrius and I should be strong contenders. But I wasn't. I had no chance.

I couldn't think of strategy, because I could not conjure one. I thought of my angle. I could be the likable and relatable one: like Peeta Mellark, the victor from District 12. I soon dismissed that. I wasn't very friendly, so it wouldn't work. I could be daring, and sexy: like Finnick Odair, the victor from District 4. Again, not going to work. I might be blonde, but I wouldn't consider myself sexy. Maybe just…pretty. Finally, I thought of weak, but then pulls out the survival factor during the games, surprising all the other tributes: like Johanna Mason, the victor a few years back. Once more, I realized I was only going to get to the first part- I couldn't pull out any survival factor.

Unexperienced, untrained, and unhappy, I slumped down on the couch, sighing.

I really had no hope at all.

"Snow," A gruff voice said at the door, "It's time to go."

I nodded, picking up both my pride and dignity, and leaving my ego behind.

I may be Lillianne Snow, but in that arena, I was just the female tribute from District One.

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><p>"Fancy seeing you around here."<p>

I ignore him. Demetrius scoffs, flicking my now wavy blonde hair forward playfully. "Come on, Lilly-"

"Lillianne." I correct him, jaw clenched. I did not want to deal with him. He nodded in mock understanding. "Sorry. _Lillianne_." He elongated for effect. He leaned casually on the elevator wall, eyeing me.

"So what's our plan, _Lillianne_?" He asked cockily. I scoffed this time, looking up at him.

"_Our_ plan? Since when did we become a team?" I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. He smirked.

"I thought you wanted to come back, alive." He answered slyly. I leaned back, putting my weight on my left leg.

"Well…yeah." I say, softening, "But-but only one wins."

"There, my dear," He interrupts, putting his finger on my lips, "Is where you are wrong."

I push his finger away, smacking his hand. "And how am I wrong? 24 tributes, one is victorious. Seems like those have been the rules for, I don't know, ever?" I say harshly. I clicks his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head. I cock my head to the side. "What? Why are you 'tsk-tsk'-ing me?"

He puts his hands on my shoulders and nears my face, a little to close for comfort. Then he says, "We could be in love."

I stare at him, not comprehending, then my mind goes back to the 74th Hunger Games. Those two tributes from District 12…Peeta and Katniss, they both won because they couldn't live without each other. They were getting married next year….they were in love….

"No. Way." I briskly retaliate, pushing him away from me. He shrugs, smiling.

"Think about it, Lillianne," He cooed, leaning on the wall again as the elevator began to stop, "I could be your only way back home."

My eyes widen at the thought. Suddenly, I realized that my life didn't have to be at the hands of the Gamemakers.

It could also be in Demetrius's.

"Suppose I do agree to this, 'love' thing," I quietly began, "Are we guaranteed a win?"

Demetrius mulls over the idea in his head, hand on his chin. He shrugs, saying, "Most likely. Unless the odds aren't in our favor."

I nod slowly, turning away. He has a smile forming on his lips as he puts his arm around me.

"Do we have a deal?"

I freeze. Maybe, just maybe, I had a strategy in these games. My greatest enemy might just have to become the 'love of my life'. I would rather die than be in love with Demetrius.

Well, now would not be the case.

"I'll think about it."

Demetrius grins, pulling himself away from me. With the elevator's 'ding!' signaling us that we had reached the lobby, he said one last thing before we embarked on this journey.

"Love you too, Lilly."

I baby-barfed in my throat, wondering how I'd survive my own head if I went on with this.


	7. Surprise, Surprise

"Oh, how lovely it is to finally meet you two!"

As soon as we got to the platform of the train, trying hard to avoid Demetrius's gaze and trying not to look back at the District I finally decided to accept as home, Cornelia Right embraced both of us in a bear hug. She strangled us, and I was amazed by this woman's strength as she even lifted us both. She took a step back and surveyed us.

"Well, Lillianne, I can tell you that you have a very gorgeous face." She said, stroking my cheek. I flinched at its touch, feeling the her tinted light pink hand on me. "And those eyes!" She added, scampering back. Then she looked at Demetrius. "Brown hair…green eyes….but that bone structure! You two certainly are quite the lookers this year!" She squeals, and just as she is to add something else, the train roars to life, telling us its time to go. I sigh, looking down, then look up at Demetrius as he shoves me, his face nodding. I shake my head and follow behind a very spastic Cornelia.

We enter the train, one similar to the one I rode on the way to live here, and Demetrius gasps. I look up as well, but am not phased as the memories from my trip here when I was young flourish in my mind. The train is covered in velvet wall and carpet, with chandeliers in the main dining room and living area. The kitchen, a few feet away from us, is open, and we see about ten wait staff there cooking up a storm. We look over to another living area, much smaller than the official one, and see who we rule out as our mentors: Cashmere and Gloss.

The brother-sister duo look up at us, acknowledging us. Cashmere gives me a wink as I stare at how similar we are dressed. Cornelia speaks again as I feel the doors behind me shut.

"These are your mentors, Cashmere and Gloss Posen," She says, leading us to their area, "And they have requested having a word with you. Alone."

At this, Cornelia curtsies and bounces away to the kitchen, grumbling to herself about how she hasn't eaten since seven in the morning. Demetrius and I stand side by side, and our two mentors stand.

"So," Gloss begins, his voice surprisingly young. "We have only one question for you two."

"Together…." Cashmere adds, "Or separate."

I understand fast. Quickly, I am forced to make a choice. I can choose to be a team with this boy, this boy I clearly despise. I could team up with him, and win, together. But I could team up with him, and he'd kill me.

Or, I can do this on my own. And I can show others what I'm made of.

_ You will show everyone what you're made of, and you will show them the great mistake in the odds, and how you beat them._

"Together."

"Alone."

Demetrius and I looked at each other in shock. We repeated ourselves, this time, not clashing our words.

"Together," Demetrius says, elongating each syllable.

"Alone." I say firmly, telling him with a glare that this deal was off.

Gloss coughs to break it up between us. "Alrighty," He sighs, "Undecided. Next order of business."

"The girl, with me." Cashmere briskly declared.

"And the boy with me," Gloss calmly ends. He gestures Demetrius to join him on a chair beside him, and I am led to the back of the train by Cashmere. While I don't see her as she walks in front of me, I can see how she won her games. She was tall, with long and shaped legs and a curvy frame. Her hair was the color of my sister's, only more pure and the color of pure gold. I looked down at my pale blonde hair sitting on my shoulder, scrunching up my nose.

We're brought to a stop, and it seems to be the end of the train. Cashmere turns to me, winks again, then presses some buttons on the right side of us. A door appears, and she leads me in. My eyes widen in wonder.

It's a room made of 75 percent glass, allowing us to see the our surroundings from every angle- except the door, of course. The floor was made of steel, covered in lush carpet, and had an outdoorsy living area with two wicker couches and two wicker love-seats. On the far end was a small table, almost like the one Juniper and my mom had outside to drink tea, with two metal chairs. Cashmere sat in one of those metal chairs, and gestured me to sit in the other. I obliged, smoothing out my skirt.

"So," She says, putting her elbow on the table, "Where do we start?"

I look up at her sheepishly, shrugging. She smiles. "Well, I'm Cashmere Posen."

I nod. "You and your brother were victors back to back."

She raises an eyebrow. "So we're not as ignorant as we look? Wow." She sing songs, and the dig stings. I give her an impassive look.

"Tell me about yourself. Your name?"

"Lillianne Snow."

She freezes, and her eyes widen. "Snow?" She asks, leaning forward.

I nod. "Yes. It's the Snow you're thinking about."

She leans back, taking interest. "The President's granddaughter…. huh." She looks at me with a mischievous glance. "Then we better get you home alive, right?"

"That's the plan," I grumble, crossing my arms. She nods, considering her choices.

"For starters, what's the background with you and the boy?" Cashmere nonchalantly begins again, playing with a strand of her own hair. I scrunch up my nose.

"Not good, is it?" She interrupts before I can say anything. I say nothing.

"Let's not lie to each other, Lillianne." She cuts again, this time watching me. I meet her stare, and she pushes me to speak.

"Alright," I mumble, shuffling in my seat, "Demetrius and I are not on the greatest terms."

She stares at me to continue. I sigh. "He wanted to pull a Katniss/Peeta on me."

She nods, taking this in. She smiles mockingly and chuckles. "It wouldn't have gone far, trust me." She replied. I smiled a bit.

"I guess not."

"Very well, a romance isn't going to get you to win these Games." She presses a button on the table, and a tray with a plate and a drink appears. On the plate was a small steak, and the drink was something fizzy. Three knives and a fork pop up as well. I cock my head to the side.

"What?" She says, flabbergasted, "I haven't eaten since this morning!"

I nod understandingly, and my stomach growls. Cashmere grins. "You hungry?"

I shrug. She presses the button again and the same thing appears before me. I get a whiff of the meat, and close my eyes. Never had I smelled meat this good. Cashmere laughs.

"So, what's your weapon?" She casually asks, cutting the meat with her fork and knife.

I look up at her, confused. "I…what?"

"You know," She continues, food in her mouth, "Your weapon. Sword. Rock. Slingshot. Bow and arrow. I could go on and on."

My weapon? This woman clearly doesn't understand the concept of President Snow's granddaughter.

"I've…I'm not trained…very well." I stutter. She stops chewing, staring.

''But- you're District One. You should have training." She says as-a-matter-of-factly. I shake my head.

"I've only had training in my first and second year of school." I reply, looking down. She puts her utensils down.

"Primary is all you got to?" She accused, "And how long have you been living in District One?"

"I- I moved from the Capitol at three," I stumbled out.

She sighs. "Very well then. But you should at least have picked a preference in second year," She mused aloud. I nod absently, knowing to what she is referring to. My mind wanders off, and I remember what Cashmere is mumbling about on the spot.

* * *

><p>It was a cold morning. All of the other kids stood in line with their heads held high, excited for today. I shivered, looking at my uniform: Crimson shorts with a silver stripe on the sides, and a silver tank top with red piping at the neck and sleeves. It seemed like I was the only one freezing.<p>

Our trainer, Second Year Trainer Maerna, walked in front of us, checking us before going into the big kids' gym. She shook her head as she saw me tremble in my spot, but moved on. When she reached the front of the line, she cleared her throat.

"Today is a very important day. As you get older, the Hunger Games will become available to you, and our District is highly honored for having more victors than other Districts. To keep the legacy alive, we train every generation beginning at year one so that when you qualify for the Hunger Games, you will come successful.

"So today," She continues, "Is the day you pick your partner."

Kids around me looked at people next to them, already buddying up. But that's not what Maerna meant. "Not that kind of partner." She pulled out a knife from the pocket of her track pants, twirling it around her fingers. "This kind of partner." With that, she threw the knife at a trunk of a tree behind us. It hit and stuck at the center. Everyone claps.

I was amazed. So in awe, that I was the only one who didn't clap. The way she simply twirled the knife in her hand and threw it right after was amazing in my eyes. I wanted to know. I wanted to know how to do that.

She released us, and the children before me ran into the gym. I followed, seeing the array of weapons before us on a table.

Slingshots, bows and arrows, crossbows, bats, spears, swords, rocks- Everything was there for us to pick.

"Pick a weapon, any weapon," Maerna says behind the awestruck class, "But choose wisely. This will be the weapon you master for the rest of your training."

Everyone lunged to the obvious ones: Swords and bows. Many kids already had an idea what they were going to pick, being that their older siblings already owned weapons. I was lost, standing alone in the back.

My eyes wander from the main table to a smaller table, where only two kids of my class of forty were standing. They were handling short swords, similar to Maerna's, and then it catches my eye.

A silver-blade knife.

I walk slowly to it, in a trance, and pick it up carefully, feeling the leather of the grip and the cool silver blade on my fingers. The blade is dull, because I am not cut when I touch the tip. Again, I am curious.

Looking around me to see if anyone is watching first, I look for a target close enough in range. When I see no one is watching, I try to mimic Maerna's hand movement, but fail, having it fall on the ground. I turn back to see if anyone saw, but everyone was occupied in fighting for their weapons. Maerna was over there as well, breaking up a sword fight.

I picked up the knife, gripping it in my hands, and staring at a target. I wondered if I could make it hit like Maerna's.

Slowly and with one eye closed, I pulled back, aiming at the nearest target. I aimed towards the read circle, and with a grunt, I released.

* * *

><p>I blinked, getting out of my trance as I noticed Cashmere's eyes on me. I looked up at her, shaking my head.<p>

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. She looks down at the knives, and then back at me.

"Why were you staring so hard at that knife?" She asked, pointing at the carving knife on her tray. I raise an eyebrow and shake my head. "No I wasn't."

She stares at me for a long while, then smiles. "Well then, you wouldn't mind showing me what you can do with that knife, would you?"

My brow furrows. "But-but I-"

"What did I say about not lying to each other?" She sing singed, pushing the knife towards me. "Besides, if you can't do it, we'll move on."

I stare at the carving knife, unsure of what to do. Cashmere watches me, smiling, but after a while, she sighs and looks away.

"Okay then, let's move-"

Before she can finish that sentence, I grab the knife by it's chrome handle, twirl it in my fingers the way I couldn't do when I was a Second Year, and threw it with such accuracy, I hit the Capitol Seal on the door straight in the center. The knife makes a smacking sound as it reaches the door, and it sticks to it.

Cashmere looks at the knife that was just in my hands land on the seal, and then moves back towards me, eyes wide. I slump back in my seat, crossing my legs. She grins.

"Surprise, surprise. Snow has some fire in there." She wipes her mouth with a handkerchief, then sets it back down.

"You have my full attention now, Miss Snow." She says, leaning back. "Now tell me, can you run?"


	8. Secrets

I sat at the foot of my bed, stationary and frozen. My limbs were numb. I gripped onto the sheets brusquely.

The train ride would only be about twelve hours, so we'd be in the Capitol by early morning tomorrow. _Very_ early morning.

I looked at myself in a mirror beside my bed, looking at my profile. I was fixable, like Cashmere had told me during our talk. She said I was very manipulative. But they probably won't change my hair much.

I looked at the new change of clothes I had on. High waisted, navy blue shorts paired with a billowy white t-shirt was one of the few comfortable things I found. The rest was Capitol wear. I scratched my arm as I studied myself, trying to figure out what my stylists would do to me when I arrived. Would I be unrecognizable? Or would I be too recognizable?

_Juniper would love a makeover,_ I thought, smiling. Suddenly, my heart dropped to my stomach. Juniper. I wondered how she was. How she was…coping.

I jumped at the sound of a knock on my door. Suddenly, I hear Demetrius's voice.

"Hey. Cornelia told me to tell you dinner is in half an hour."

I shuffle uncomfortably on the foreign bed. I muster a quiet "Okay." I don't hear steps, however, leaving me to my own thoughts. As I suspected, he's still at my door.

"We need to talk." He prompted. I went to my door, opening it halfway.

"There's nothing to talk about," I reply, looking up at him. He had changed as well, into a simple grey t-shirt and jeans. His hair was a mess, as always. He sighed.

"Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot in the elevator-"

"Oh, in the elevator?" I interrupt. "I thought we got off on the wrong foot the day you cut an inch off of one of my ponytails in First year."

He laughs. "You still remember that?"

"Yes. And everything on." I spat, then attempted to slam the door. I can't because he sticks his foot in between.

"Look. Just wanna talk strategy, is all." He replies to my dig. I hesitate.

"Fine." I grumble, stepping out of my room. We walk to the same room where Cashmere and I had our discussion. We talked a little while longer after the knife incident, and she told me about her Games. She said she would coach me more in depth when we arrived at the Capitol. She seemed confident in me.

"What happened to the door?" Demetrius asked aloud. I turn back, seeing him gesture to the tattered Capitol seal. I shrug.

"I have absolutely no idea," I lied. He nods, and we take a seat across from each other, choosing the wicker sofas. I put my feet up. He leans back casually. Beside us, a forest landscape whizzes by us.

"So…"

"The deal is off." I say, eyes still on the outside world.

"So I've noticed," He replies, and I feel his eyes on me. "May I ask why?"

"Because I've ruled out the possibilities. I've done the odds. And you're not in them." I turn to face him. "Plus, how long could we pretend we were in love, let alone pretend we even liked each other?"

He doesn't answer.

"Exactly. You and I know that it wouldn't have worked. We have no history. We have no chemistry. We have no future." I flip my hair back, adding, "So our deal is off."

"Now riddle me this," He replies, leaning forward, "How are you going to survive?"

"I'll get sponsors." I reply hastily, still not letting him in on my secret. He scoffs.

"Anyone can get sponsors."

"Look at me," I say sarcastically, "I am much prettier than you. If I get a good stylist, sponsors will be lining up from around the block for me."

He rolls his eyes. "That's nice and all, but let's state the facts. I'm trained. You're not." He leans back again, arms propped against the back of his wicker sofa. "All the sponsors in the world won't save you from other kids like me."

I gulped subtly. He had a point. Demetrius had been training since First Year. He was taken from the normal Fourth year class and transferred to the Advanced class- with already eligible trainees- and has even graduated to private study at Seventh year. He was strong, and could lift like crazy. He was fast- but not the fastest- as he was in track for short distance. I'd sat in during training, and I had seen what he could do with a sword. I blinked as I remembered him slicing up dummies in the Training Gym. This boy was a killing machine.

"Well," I say, putting my feet down on the ground, "We have time to train."

"A few days?" He laughed. "Enlighten me. What could you possibly learn to do in a few days?"

I grinned. I imagined cutting up a dummy in a cleaner and faster way than he ever did, only with a small knife. "Don't you worry about that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Am I sensing some secrecy here?"

"Hmph," I scoff, leaning back. "No secrecy. But I think I've established the fact that I am determined on coming home."

"Oh,'' He said slowly, with some sarcasm as he crossed his legs. "So the District One team has officially called sides?"

"We were never a team, dear." I correct him, crossing my legs as well. I lean forward. "And yes."

"So, when the time comes," He mused, rubbing his chin, "Will you join the Career group with me?"

My heart skips a bit. I had overlooked that detail. The careers held the highest percentage of winning in the history of the games. They were the trained ones. They were the feared ones.

"If it gets me to the end, I will." I answer defiantly. He chuckles breathily.

"Alright, Miss Snow," He said sarcastically, standing up. "It seems like you have this all covered, secrets and all."

I shrugged, standing as well. He crossed his arms, grinning.

"Well, if that's all we have to say to each other…?"

I nod. "I'll see you at the opening ceremonies," I joke acidly. He laughs in retaliation. He begins to walk away, but stops at the frame of the door. He turns back to speak.

"Just remember you're not the only one with secrets."

With that, the door closed behind him. I wonder what he could mean by that.

I shudder, thinking the worst he could have up his sleeve as I made my way to the dining car.


	9. First Impressions

**Thank you for the reviews! I cannot express how thankful I am for them! Hope you all keep reading c:**

* * *

><p>"Please, feel free to eat whatever your little hearts desire!"<p>

Cornelia stood at the foot of the large dining table, gesturing grandly as servers filed in behind her. They came and stood beside us, serving us the first course: A light soup. Cashmere and Gloss thanked the servers, as did I, but Demetrius stared at his plate with an incredulous look. I chuckled and leaned in, whispering, "Haven't you ever seen chicken soup?"

He broke out of his daze and scoffed. "Of course."

We dug in, and Cashmere and Cornelia made small talk about some sort of new trend from the capitol. Something about a mockingjay. I didn't listen, even while their conversation carried on to the second course, smoked ham with mashed potatoes and a side salad. Gloss and Demetrius began to speak about the availability of a sword at the Cornucopia. They exchanged tips during training, all while eating monstrously. I slumped in my seat, feeling a little left out. I shook of the feeling quickly, knowing the feeling wasn't new.

I ate little. Cornelia noticed.

"Aren't you hungry, Lillianne dear?" She asked, peering over the big piece of flowers in the middle of the table. I smiled sheepishly, shrugging as a server took my half-eaten plate and replaced it with the final course: Vanilla ice-cream with silver sprinkles. Cornelia shakes her head disapprovingly, about to say something when she is interrupted by a server.

"Excuse me. The Reapings are to be broadcast in five minutes. Would you like to take your dessert to the viewing area?" The woman asked uniformly. She never met our gaze.

Cornelia jumped up, ecstatic. "Yes!" She turned to us, gesturing us to get up. "Come along, children! Let's see your competition!"

Servers were immediately at our side, ready to take our small cup of ice-cream for us. When I beat my server to my cup and grabbed a spoon, I bit my lip. "Uh-thank you, but I'll take it." The server was confused for a few seconds, then changed back to a frozen smile. He moved back slowly, and I walked behind our assembly line as we walked to this 'viewing room'. I almost dropped my spoon in awe.

We entered a room that was large enough to be a whole train car. It was warmly colored, with oranges and purples, with one large couch that rounded in a semi-circle. Pillows comfortably sat in every available spot. In front of the long couch was a raised but small wooden coffee table, then a large black screen I ruled out to be the television. I blinked, then followed lamely behind Demetrius. Both obviously struck by the awesomeness of the room, we stumbled together and I punched him lightly for getting in my way. He chuckled and moved over, sitting beside Gloss. I looked up to see Cashmere patting a spot beside her. I shimmied my way to that spot. Between Gloss and Cashmere, I felt a bit more at ease. The screen belting out the Capitol anthem makes us pay attention. I put my feet up beside me.

Ceasar Flickerman, this year sporting pale pink hair with matching everything announces the Games and how excited he is that we are so close to them. I shudder, and turn my attention back. He begins the Reapings, and the first ones are obviously Demetrius and me. I see myself waver and almost fall back onto Demetrius, my eyes wide and my body paralyzed. The commentator says how this was a twist of events. He makes sure that everyone knows I am the President's granddaughter. The other commentator adds that I look fabulous in my pencil skirt and curled hair. Cashmere nudges me and gives me a smile. When Demetrius walks up, he has some swagger in his step, and instantly the commentators say he is quite the looker. It's official. We just might be the best looking tributes in this year's games.

The rest of the tributes are a blur, but some remain in my head. The blue-eyed redhead from District Two who literally ran with glee to the stage. The District 3 boy who wore red glasses that looked like goggles. The twins- a Hunger Games first- from District Seven were small, twelve year olds surely, but very optimistic. A towering girl from District 11 with dark skin and wild hair who stared down her escort as he introduced her.

I can tell that Gloss and Demetrius are keeping tabs, but I ignore their constant comments on the physiques of the tributes. I just watch as the last District, Twelve, shows their reaping. Their District isn't as fancy as ours- in fact, it was literally scraping to survive. The District 12 girl isn't a complete standout. She is afraid, and has peacekeepers literally push her to the stage. With light brown hair and brown eyes, I dismiss her as just another tribute.

That is, when I see her counterpart.

My heart skips a bit as they call his name. "Alexander Romulus."

I would've overlooked him, like Demetrius and Gloss. I would've dismissed him like I did the female. But I couldn't.

He was tall, with a lanky build. He was dark skinned, but not so like the girl from District 11. His eyes were stormy grey and determined, almost concealed under his messy and curly black hair. He gave a slight grin at the crowd when they clapped solemnly.

"Not a big deal," I hear Demetrius whisper. I shush him.

I couldn't understand what drew me to him, but instantly I knew that he was important. I wasn't sure if I should look out for him, or like him- all I knew is that he was important. He could be an underdog, for all I knew. He could have secrets, just like I had mine. I cocked my head to the side, considering the boy. We could be allies-

_Woah_, I say to myself, freezing. _You haven't even met this kid. How can you trust him?_

The screen goes blank. Cornelia sighs and turns to us.

"I believe that you two are the prettiest tributes." She confides in us, licking her spoonful of ice-cream. Demetrius shrugs.

"The career tributes aren't very amazing this year," He says. Gloss agrees.

"You guys have this," Gloss replies, "Sponsors will be on your side, surely."

Cashmere laughs. "And if looks could kill..." She trails off, eating some more of her ice cream.

"What do you think, Lillianne?" Cornelia asks.

Four eyes turn to look at me, expectantly. I don't know what to say. Not keeping tabs and only watching, I have no response. I put the now melted cup of ice cream on the wooden coffee table absently and get up.

"I- I think I'm going to sleep now." I say, messing with my shirt to fix it.

Before protests or 'goodnights', I run out of the room, unsure of what to make of the reapings. While Demetrius is already ruling out allies, I'm suddenly hooked on some kid from District 12. I shouldn't care about him! I shouldn't even give him a second thought. He'll be dead in a few weeks!

I close the door swiftly, leaning my spine on the cool surface. I bonk my head backwards, closing my eyes.

_Alexander Romulus! The male tribute from District 12!_

It's amazing how far first impressions will go. I learned that quickly.


	10. Premature Nightmares

I get the first set of nightmares before the Games even begin.

I find myself in a woodland area, with greens and browns surrounding me as I wander around, unsure what to do. It was damp, and the crunch under my feet was getting louder by the second. I look down and see a pair of boots, worn down with mud and grass covering them, and I see blood on my shirt and arms. I yelp in my head, but the dream me makes nothing of it.

I've been walking for a very long time- I feel it in the aches of my muscles. I finally reach a clearing, and stop to take a breath. My inner conscience is confused- why would I stand in the middle of an open field? These were the Hunger Games, weren't they?

I realized that I was in the Hunger Games the moment a cannon fired. Soon, another would fire as well. I started to hear noises all around me, and I turned to every direction, pointing a very meager weapon in my hand- a stick. As ridiculous as it sounded, it was a stick like any other- only a sharp end was covered in blood. My breathing hitched as I looked to my right and a blonde male came to my side, grinning with a sword. I turned to my left and saw a female with brown hair, twirling an axe in her hands. Behind me, a small, twelve year old (I guessed) girl emerged from the forest as well, carrying two long daggers on each hand. I look around them, trying to find an exit, trying to run, trying to hid- anything! But when I looked forward again, I saw a tall girl with dark skin and wild eyes inches from my face. She began to laugh.

I back away, but was encircled by these people, these _kids, _and I stared into the eyes of each one. I held onto my stick lamely, and took a swing at the girl with it. Ultimate failure.

She grabbed my arm roughly, twisting it and me. My measly stick fell to the ground, and my face was brought down as well. I forced to double over, when she grabbed me in a headlock. I struggled to breathe, kicking and thrashing, and they all laughed as they came the closest they could. The leader picked up her weapon, a knife, and everyone else followed. They were going to kill me, together.

Like a team.

I couldn't scream as the knife and swords and daggers cut me up on my body, because of the constriction of air making it sound more like a choke. The knife girl stabbed me in the side, holding it in there and laughing as I tried to let out the pain in voice. Suddenly, the pressure is release quickly, and I am dropped on the ground, gasping for air. I turn to the kids and see them with their wide eyes, starting to move back cautiously. I blink, not understanding, and I turn to see them.

Mutts.

They emerge from the forest, large and hairy, bearing their teeth. I don't know exactly what they are, and I really don't want to figure it out. Non-human like, they have talons and claws, with patchy fur and long tongues dancing out of their mouths. I see the team of kids behind me still backing away. The girl with the knife who choked her shouted at the group.

"Move. Now!"

The small girl spoke quietly, still watching the mutts make their way towards them. "But-but her?"

Immediately, I know they're talking about me. I'm frozen, on the ground, wheezing as blood oozes from my body, trying to stay up with my arms. The girl shakes her head.

"Forget her, and run!"

They break into a sprint, and try to run to the opposite side of the field to hide in the trees. That's when the mutts ascend, sprinting in an uncanny speed. I wince and close my eyes, expecting to be ripped to shreds in seconds, but am stopped short when I realize majority of the mutts ran off to catch the kids who made a break for it. I let out a small breath, but hold it when I see one mutt left.

It nears me slowly, and I back away with my hands and legs weakly. It makes no sudden moves to kill me, like it enjoys my struggle to run. He reaches me to a close proximity, and I see his gruesome facial features. I gasp.

The same stormy grey eyes with blue specks in the iris from District 12's reaping stared down at me, huffing its grotesque odor with his animal-like wheezing.

_Lillianne, _ a male voice says in my head faintly. I ignore it as I realize who the mutt resembles.

"Alexander….Romulus?"

_Lillianne_.

He slashes my stomach.

_ Hey, Lillianne?_

He cuts my throat.

_ Lillianne, get up._

He lunges for my face and rips it off completely.

The cannon goes off.

* * *

><p><em>BOOM!<em>

I hear the cannon when my eyes fly open. I gasp, sitting up and pant heavily as if I've never had a breath of air in my life. I instinctively move back, thrashing backwards to the wall behind my bed, sheets and pillows flying off my bed. As my vision clears, I see a boy with blonde hair standing at the foot of my bed, holding his hands up defensively.

"Woah, woah! Lill, calm down!" He yells, leaning back with a concerned face. I have no time for retaliation. Quickly, I look down at my stomach. Clean shirt, no cut. I touch my throat. Soft and a little sweaty. Finally, my hands wander to my face. Sweaty as well, but still intact. I look at my hands and see them clean. I sigh in relief.

"Uh…" Demetrius breaks into my check-up, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I reply quickly and breathily, my eyes roaming around me. We're not in the forest, but a lit room. We were on a train. On a train the the Capitol. To compete in the Hunger Games. And Demetrius was in my room. Demetrius woke me up. Demetrius was real. I look back up at Demetrius, realizing that he saved me from dream death by annoyingly waking me up.

"Okay…?" He says uncertainly, stepping close to my bed. "Well, Cornelia said that you have to wake up now. We'll be in the Capitol in twenty minutes."

Nodding, I stand, picking up the sheets absently, and I feel my legs shaking. My knees buckle, and I am about to fall when I feel Demetrius catch me in his arms, like a trust exercise. Still half-asleep, I don't push him off as he gently repositions me and grabs my sheets from my shaky hand.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He asked, chuckling half-heartedly. I nod absently again, and finally words come.

"Thank you," I reply, barely an audible whisper. I raise the volume and look him in the eye. "Thank you, Demetrius."

"No problem," He says hesitantly, backing up to the door. "Uh-well, Cornelia just wanted me to tell you. So…er…get dressed or something." He reaches for the handle of the door, but stops. He turns his face to me.

"Did you dream about mutts?" He asked grimly. Taken aback by his correctness, I stutter my answer.

"Uh-y-yeah. Yes."

He looks down to consider my answer.

"H-how did you know?" I ask.

"You talk in your sleep," He grumbles. I blush and scratch my arm.

"Oh...well, yes. I saw them. In my dreams, I mean." I ramble until I force myself to stop. He nods thoughtfully, and then he looks at me with a solemn look.

"So did I. Only I didn't have an alarm clock to tell me it was fake."

He walks out the room before I even have a chance to ask for his dream. Suddenly, I wonder if Careers really do have great joy for these Games.

And I wonder if it's really just a dream to them.


	11. Everybody's Watching

_So, I've already seen the Hunger Games twice. It was good c: YOU MUST WATCH._

_And I also realized that i had to update. So thanks to the Hunger Games movie for reminding me._

_PS:Please, Review guys! It really does mean a lot._

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><p>I let out a deep breath as I try to collect my thoughts in the train hallway.<p>

In a few minutes, we'd arrive at the Capitol. We must make a sponsors notice. We are the first tributes to arrive. Therefore, we must make an impression even before the Tribute Parade. Aware of this, I feel the smooth fabric of cotton and polyester under my fingers. I had realized we might have to face the capitol citizens before any official Capitol coverage, and I scoured through my pre-calculated closet to find something worthy of Juniper's approval. But when I did, I fathomed that I would look too much like Juniper. Cashmere told me I had to stand out. So I picked a blue tunic-style dress up to my knees and paired it with mustard-yellow leggings that mixed with brown gladiator sandals.

Shaking, I twisted a strand of my wet, wavy hair on my shoulder to try to calm myself. I pushed the door open and walked into the dining car.

Cornelia wore a concoction of bright pink and black. In her wild mane of hair, a pink bow the size of her head poked out of the bush brown curls. A small pink bolero covered her shoulders, and a tight black dress bandaging her body matched the pink leather cut out gloves she used now to maneuver her fork to eat some eggs. Immediately, she smiled at me, gulping her eggs.

"Good morning, Lillianne!" She chirped, standing. I waved meekly and her hand motioned me to move to the table, another feast awaiting. I looked around and saw Cashmere at one end of the table and Demetrius closest to me. Demetrius picked up on what I had realized this morning, also dressing up with a light blue blazer and pastel yellow shirt. I gave him a look of recognition.

"We match." I whisper as I sit beside him. He grins.

"_You_ copied _me_." He says mockingly. Of course. Can't get friendly, now.

However, I surprised myself as I laugh genuinely into his shoulder. We dig into the breakfast before us-him with meat and eggs and me with fruit and cereal- and suddenly, I see the first pieces of Capitol wiz by us. I jump up.

"We're here!" I announced, a bit to excited on my part. Demetrius followed behind me as I walked towards the large glass window covering one three-fourths of the wall before the table, and we stand together, watching the Capitol piece up towards up. Large buildings of concrete, a bridge inside the city, roads paved cleanly with banners hanging from its multiple squares saying "Happy Hunger Games!" all graced this city, and Demetrius and I can't help but gasp. We quickly pull up to this futuristic train station, bright white and fluorescent, and at first we don't notice. After a while, we can't miss them.

Hundreds of people line up beside our train, cheering and shouting. They wave towards us frantically, trying to catch our attention. In a daze, I grab Demetrius's shoulder and shake him. We both pick up our hands lamely and wave, smiling a bit as they cheer even louder at our small gesture. We stop, and Cornelia speaks up behind us.

"Right on schedule." She breathes, sighing.

* * *

><p>The door slides open and the crowd cheers. Flashes of lights go off in every direction, and a voice booms over us like a commentary.<p>

"District One has just arrived! Let's wish them the best of odds and a Happy Hunger Games!"

The crowd erupts, and a blinding light makes me stagger back. Unintentionally, I grab Demetrius's hand, clenching it. The crowd screams even more. When my vision returns, I lace my fingers into whatever it was I grabbed onto to not fall, and then I hear it.

"Looks like District One has supplied us a new pair of lovers this year!"

I look down to our intertwined hands, and gasp.

Undeniably, they think I like him.

Perhaps worse. That I could even _love_ him.

The crowd goes wild.

I break my grasp from him and we are pushed out of the train by a group of peacekeepers, making way for us as we reach our tinted-windowed car. As we slide in, the door closes and I see that Cornelia and our mentors are not with us. Just Demetrius and the driver accompany me. I turned to face him.

"Why did you do that?" I whisper furiously, pushing him back. He scoffs.

"Excuse me? _You_ grabbed my _hand_." He retaliated, putting on his seat belt. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He had a point.

I groan, putting my face in my hands. I lean back, putting my head on a read rest. With my eyes closed, I grumble.

"I told you the deal was off."

He shrugged. "I know. And I agreed. But like I said, you grabbed my hand." He nears me. "Let's see how you get out of this one."

My eyes opened as I sighed. He was right. Before my eyes, I can already see the headlines:_ Star-crossed lovers!/Holding hands? What's Next?/The President's Granddaughter Gets Reaped: With a New Beau!_ I cringe, realizing my mistake with one accidental act.

How _was_ I going to get myself out of this one?

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><p><em>Not the best one, I know, but please do review. Wonder how Lillianne's going to get out of this one? Find out in the next few chapters!<em>

_IF she does get out._

_MWAHAHAHA._

_Review? C:_


	12. Panic, Run

_Bring on the Reviews, guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter c:_

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><p>I was constantly being reminded that being a Snow made me no different from any other tribute.<p>

Shortly after our arrival at the training center, we hadn't even walked twenty feet into the lobby when a group of Peacekeepers came for me. Confused, I stepped back cautiously, then scampered faster, bumping into Demetrius. I turn to see that another group of peacekeepers has assembled beside Demetrius. One of the peacekeepers on my side grabs my arm brusquely. Another follows the same action and grabs my other arm. I begin to panic and I turn to Cornelia, eyes wide. She cleared her throat and stomped- well, _scampered - _towards me.

"Excuse me!" She cried indignantly, standing between her tributes. "Must we be so brash?"

One of the peacekeepers, a surly man with dark brown eyes and thick lips on my right spoke up.

"They told us if they resist, we use force."

I scoff.

"Resisting? You're making me panic, is what I'm doing."

The tight around my arms tighten. Demetrius grunts, trying to shake off the peacekeeper. Cornelia is at a loss for words. Cashmere and Gloss come behind and command them to let us go.

"But Miss-"

"They're just scared," Gloss interjects, "If you let them go, they'll follow you with no problem."

They let us fall. After this hold-up, they begin to walk us to the elevator, me going right and Demetrius left. I choose to ask one of the peacekeepers on my lower left flank a question. WIth her small frame and ponytail trailing down her shoulder under her helmet and soft green eyes, she seemed approachable.

"Um- where are you taking us?"

Startled, the peacekeeper exchanges looks with another guard, then blinks quickly as she replies with a husky voice, "To the Remake Level below."

"Remake?"

"Quiet!" The surly peacekeeper shouts. I jump and continue on with them, reaching the elevator. We go down several floors, besides the fact that we were already on ground floor when we had arrived. When we arrive, I see a long hallway with rooms of concrete that looked like cells. Three peacekeepers left us as two motioned me forward. We stopped at the cell door that was marked "1: Female" and I was pushed in. Before they closed the door, the nice female peacekeeper came in and motioned to the clear and fluorescent hovering table in the middle. On it was a robe.

"Please undress and be prepared for your stylists. Your head stylist will come to see you when you are completed."

"Undress? Like naked? What-"

The door slammed behind her. I stayed motionless, realizing I was shaking. A mechanic voice booms overhead, repeating my instructions.

"Please undress. Your stylists will meet you shortly. "

I gulped, and sat on a chair in the far corner. Trembling, I unlatch my gladiator sandals. Then I slide off my leggings. Finally, I pull off my dress. I turn to a mirror in front of the end of the table at the center. I see myself in my undergarments and blush.

When they said undress…to what degree?

As if to answer my question, the overhead speaker talks: "Remove all undergarments. Please undress. Your stylists will meet you shortly."

I bite my lip and stare at my physique, clenching my fists. Anticipating being naked, I survey my body. I was smaller than most girls my age, but still rather tall at five feet and six inches. I had average sized feet, with toned calves. I smile at this, because I know where they come from. I was in short- and long-distance running at my school. Of course, I only went to practices- I didn't and wasn't allowed to participate in meets and events. My arms were lanky, but still firm. My chest…I had to admit, it was pretty average. I thank the heavens that I wasn't as developed as the past two District One tributes - Glimmer and Rogue- because I know they'd play that card with the sponsors. My stomach was flat. All in all, I was a healthy tribute.

"Remove all under-"

"Alright!" I shouted exasperatedly, following their orders. The automated voice went silent.

* * *

><p>In my robe, I lay on the table facing upwards, as the instructions told me to do so. My stylists had arrived, and had just told me to take off my robe. Shaking, I obliged, and seeing my discomfort, my three stylists chuckled. All female, they were.<p>

"Don't worry, darlin'," the one closest to me assures, "There's nothing to be ashamed of. What happens here stays here."

I survey her as I nod meekly. She had sleek blonde hair with pink and orange and red tips, long at the front and short at the back. Her eyes were hazel purple, and had blue eyeliner with green feathery end lashes floating out of her eyes. Fully exposed now, I closed my eyes as they inspected me.

"She's not that bad-" A huskier voice remarked, "Just some touch-ups, evening out her skin, those nails, that acne- and that hair! New canvas!"

I opened my eyes to see another woman beside me, opposite of the one before, and I saw she was older. Her hair was up in an elegant beehive up-do, bright purple with streaks of blue swirling in and out of it. She had on pointed blue glasses. Her lipstick matched her hair. She winked as she twirled a strand of my hair.

"Well," another one behind me remarks, "Might as well get started. Cinna's going to want her as soon as she's done, and I have a feeling she'll be quicker than any other tribute."

I see her look down at me, her frizzy red bob falling over as well. With streaks of orange and yellow, it looks like fire on top of my face. She has flamed tattoos coming out of the edge of her eyes, and her eyeliner is silver with blue flares.

"…Wait did you just say Cinna?" I ask, sitting up. The one with flame red hair pulls me down to the table, and slaps on some gloves.

"Yes. He personally requested to have you this year," The one with blonde hair answers. She's mixing something in a hot container. "I mean, it was practically a war for you when the reaping lists were distributed. At least fifteen stylists wanted you. But Cinna beat them out." She smiles giddily as she mixes. In my mind, I see Katniss Everdeen's girl on fire dress, her interviews dress, and her final dress at the finale. I also see his Quarter Quell look for the picked tributes - last year's Quarter Quell consisted of mentors themselves picking a child from an academy to ensure equality to some extent- and I see his District Four creations, I flowing cape of artificial water, shells and a sandy dress for the interviews, and then her sea blue dress for the victory ceremony- the girl had been the victor.

"Cinna? _The_ Cinna?" I ask again. I falter. "But- why me? I'm not amazing."

I let out the last sentence by accident. I didn't want to say that, but in my head, I wasn't that special. Sure, I could run, but only select courses. Sure, I could use a knife, but to the extent of a few practices with a trainer in sixth year and preschool training. Maybe messing around with a house knife as well, but that's all there was. I couldn't fight hand-to-hand combat. I was a career, by definition and to some extent, but I doubt I'd do well with them. It would just be a formality in my case.

"Now, now, Lillianne." The blonde one says, "Can I call you Lilly?"

I smile. "Sure."

"Oh, how rude! I haven't introduced myself. My name is Zafrina, and I am one of your stylists." The blonde says, waving around a brown brush and pieces of paper.

"I am Bienna, and I am also a stylist for you…Lilly." The one with purple hair says from a table with a large array of creams.

"The name's Venus," The one with red hair says with scissors in hand, "Stylist too."

I grin a bit as I get comfortable in my table. These ladies were very nice. Nothing like she'd imagined. Zafrina came over to my table and held a steaming pot of yellow cream with a stick coming out of it on one hand and a few long strips of paper in the other, also pulling a cart to her. "Ready?"

I sigh, then nod. She smooths over the warm cream and pats down the piece of cloth.

_ RIIIIPPPPPP!_

"AHHHHHH!"


	13. Puns

_So today, I log on to my email to find it BLOWN UP by notifications. Thank you guys for the reviews and alerts! I feel so...proud c':_

_ANYWAYS, thanks for the positive feedback, and in thanks for that, I have a brand new chapter! Not the longest, but good read?_

_Edit: Sorry if I posted the wrong chapter yesterday! I always do this at least once in every new fanfic... *slaps forehead* So here is the real chapter 13._

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><p>I stare at the concrete wall to my left, counting every crack and every space.<p>

Annoyed, I blew at my new bangs over my forehead. My body throbbed under the cold cream I had been lathered on completely. My hair was dyed a richer blonde, and now it healthily waved down my shoulders. Polished, my skin now hid under a new robe with "D-1" inscribed on the right breast.

My prep team was correct on time. I heard one of them remark that they were the first ones done with their tribute and had been offered lunch. I was uninvited.

My stomach growled. I was unsure of the time. All I knew was I had been here for a long time.

I anticipate this next part: meeting my head stylist. According to the prep team, I'd been assigned the legendary Cinna. I sigh at the thought at having Cinna; the man was genius. My sister drools over any of his creations, and his work makes me want to look at every detail and stitchwork it took to make. The girl on fire dress, the sea dress- his work was just top notch. Not to mention he was probably one of the most normal of the stylists in charge of tributes. I wondered if he was nice? Katniss Everdeen characterized him as such. What if he thought I was just another shallow District One tribute? I bite my lip. What if he doesn't even like me? What if I didn't even get Cinna after all? He could switch before seeing me, couldn't he?

The door clicked open, and I hastily turned to my right, looking down to sit up. My bangs fall and I move them to the side, then look up. Finally, I meet the famous Cinna.

He is a dark-skinned man, much taller than the television makes him seem. His signature golden eyeliner has been accented with small flares of red. He wears a simple purple shirt and a navy blue vest, a white rose as his lapel. He comes to shake my hand, and his voice startles me with its husky tone.

"Hello. My name is Cinna. I'm very sorry this has happened to you."

I'm taken aback by the extra comment. _I'm very sorry this has happened to you?_ Perhaps he wasn't like a normal capitol citizen. I cock my head to the side.

"It's…an honor?" I reply in question format, not sure if I'm talking about meeting Cinna or the games itself. I mentally smack myself on the head because I know I just made myself become even more of a career, saying the Games were an honor. He sees my unrest and chuckles.

"I don't think you agree with that." He replies. This eases me. I shake my head.

"No. I guess not."

He smiles fully. "You're Lillianne Snow. Everyone's been talking about you."

I grin weakly. "Yeah. I'm 'the girl with no entries'." I quote, making the hand gesture and mimicking Caesar Flickerman's voice. He laughs a bit, making me a bit more comfortable.

"That's right. But you won't be that anymore. I promise." He says, coming closer. I raise an eyebrow. He continues. "I have something up my sleeve."

Instantly, I see the 'girl on fire dress' in my head. I try not to get my hopes up. My District is Luxury, and there is virtually no fire involved for that.

"That's good." I say quietly.

He brings a chair to my table and straddles it, the back of the chair facing me. "So, today is the Tribute Parade."

I look up. I hadn't realized that. I listened.

"You understand the concept of sponsors?"

"Yes," I say, "It is the public's way of helping a tribute in need. Your mentor must supply you with the sponsorships. Sponsors choose their own sponsorships based on their own decision. Basically, make people like you, and they'll help you.''

Cinna chuckles at my blunt answer. "Yes, that's right. Now the Tribute Parade is the first time that those possible sponsors will be seeing the Tributes. You are the first chariot out, so we have to make it memorable."

I smile. "Cinna, anything you make is memorable." I blurt out. He nods in thanks.

"Thank you. Now, District One is luxury-"

"Yeah, we're always the ones in diamonds and glitter and pink." I say with sarcasm, leaning back a bit. He grins slyly.

"Let's take this a step further, shall we?"

I eye him cautiously, raising an eyebrow. "You're not gonna light me on fire, are you?" I let out. He shakes his head, then nears me.

"I was thinking more along the lines of snow-of cold. Pun intended."

My chin lowers as I try to figure his hint out. He winks.

"How do you feel about ice on skin?"

I shiver and smile to answer his question. Cinna definitely had something up his sleeve.

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><p><em>Review, please? C:<em>


	14. Giving Me No Choice

_Hey all! Thanks for the reviews, they are what gives you all chapters! So remember, review and receive chapters in return! lol_

_That being said, I must say this is one of my favorites so far. Hope you all enjoy. (If you want the full experience, lol) This chapter was written to The Hunger Games Score- Tenuous Winners/Returning Home. _

_Enjoy!_

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><p>The District One chariot was beautiful.<p>

Holding my breath, I walked around it, holding my robe in my hands even if it was tied around me. It was white with swirls and designs of silver and blue, pink hints and deep purple accents subtly hidden around the curvature. It practically shined in the light, pulled by white horses. I absently pet one of the mares, feeling the soft, white hair under my buffed fingers. We were the first tributes to arrive at the final prep room, a large space that held the chariots and tents to add finishing touches to the tributes before the parade, and I wasn't even dressed yet. My hair was up, swooped and styled to an elegant updo with highlights of silver and blue peeking out of my hair. My bangs had been dipped in shimmery pale blue to fade into my blonde hair, tips only dyed. Nestled at top of my head was a silver tiara, bedazzled in gems of cool colors and intricately woven. Two strands of pale pink pearls swooped from the ends of the tiara and joined to the back of my updo, disappearing into it. My tiara is crystal, almost like ice. However, this is nothing close to my Tribute Costume, Zafrina assured me. She's so giddy that she's the only one Cinna let see the costume, and only because he needed her steady hands to finish the back.

I smile at the hint.

Demetrius is standing in the chariot, robed as well, and imagining the parade already, looking out to the imaginary crowd. After a few moments, he stops to watch me.

"So…what's the plan?" He asks, leaning on the edge of the chariot. I keep stroking the mare's white hair.

"What plan?" I ask monotonely, still not looking at him. I adjust my headpiece gently, putting it in place. I turn to him, putting my polished hand down from the horse. "I have no plan."

He sighs. Glitter falls from his brown hair. Like me, his hair is a highlighted with darker blues and is glittered with silver. He has a crown, one fashioned much like the victor's crown, but larger and all silver. He has smaller gems than mine, and pearls like mine are fashioned into the crown, only smaller. Hints of bronze in his crown make his green eyes pop. The silver in my tiara makes my blue eyes iridescent.

"Well, we should have a plan," He says, jumping off the chariot to join me. He stands beside me as I look at the large doors that will lead us out to the parade in about an hour or two. He continues on, bumping me on the shoulder. "We could be friendly. Never known each other. Love each other. Hold hands. We could even hate one another and not even look at each other."

I laugh a bit. "We're masters at the last one."

He grins.

"So is that our plan?"

I shrug uneasily. I cross my arms. "I think we should talk this over with Cashmere and Gloss."

He shakes his head. "Well the tribute parade is soon, and we have to make a decision. So what's it going to be? New strategy? Or our deal? Are you coming home with me, or dying alone?"

His questions startle me. He holds his hand out to me, a somewhat sincere look in his eyes. I look at him, genuinely.

"Why are you doing this?" I whisper, narrowing my eyes a bit. He presses his lips together.

"You want to go home, don't you?" He questions again. I shake my head slowly.

"That's not an answer. Why. Are. You. Doing. This?" I say again. He puts his hand down and comes closer to me. I step back a bit and look away. "You shouldn't ask me these questions. We shouldn't be here. You don't like me. I don't like you. Yet we're here, and right now it seems your the only way home." I then look at him again, and he looks away. Finally, I say, "But why are you making me love you for the cameras?"

"I'm not making you do anything," He said acidly. "You're doing that yourself."

"Because you're giving me no other choice! Go home with your or die alone? Wonderful palette of choices!" I shout at him. My words reverberate in the empty room, and silence ensues. He stares at me, eyes wide. My mouth silently stutters for a follow up, but gives none. After a few moments, my hysterical arms come down to my sides and I make him face me, grabbing his chin to make him look at me.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me yourself?" I say through gritted teeth. "How can you pretend to like me when all you've known is seeing me fail?" He grabs my hand and puts it down to my side slowly. He sighs. After a brief pause of staring at his gentle action, his eyes flicker to mine.

"Because maybe….maybe _you're_ my way home too."

I feel a tug in my chest at his words. We stare off for a while longer as we both take in his statement, and finally I speak.

"Demetrius, let's not lie to each other." I urge, my eyes softening. "I want to be on the same page with you. At least before the countdown."

He looks like he's going to answer, but a loud bang startles us, and we turn to see both our prep teams and our stylists, Cinna and Jaques- a tall, tanned woman with dark brown hair down her shoulder in a large, intricate braid and black eyeliner that made her eyes almost ravenlike- coming at us, 2 large boxes in tow. We move away from each other and head to our respective teams. Behind them also come Cashmere and Gloss, matching in gold. Cashmere wears a retro dress in pure gold that stops above her knee, with a leafy gold headband in her blonde hair that curled down her back. Demetrius matches her, with tan pants and a pure gold shirt, a dark brown blazer over it. Cinna sees me before Cashmere gravitates towards me.

"Hair is perfectly executed," He says proudly. Venus grins slyly. Cinna looks at my face as well. "Clear make-up, blue and silver, with glowing cheekbones- perfect as well." Bienna nods at the compliment. Cashmere claps excitedly.

"We're taking this one," She says triumphantly, "Even if I have yet to see the damned dress."

Cinna grins at her. "You'll see it in a few moments. We had to make sure it wouldn't melt on her back."

My eyes widen. Melt? Cinna wasn't kidding about the ice.

He sees my recognition. "Enough with the hints! Get into the tent so we can change you out of this robe," He chuckles. I smile as he eases my nerves. As I'm led to my side of the tent, I look at Demetrius and his crew before we embark onto our hidden compartment in the 'ONE' tent. We meet eyes, even with our teams in the way, and I stop. He does as well.

He nods, a glare in his eyes. I nod back.

* * *

><p>"Don't open your eyes," Cinna whispers, and I hear rustling of fabric in the back. He asks me to extend my arms, and I do so. I feel heavy weight of satin and tulle on my body now, and I shift in my spot so they can put on the dress. I feel a breeze on my back. Then, Cinna comes before me, his voice in front of me.<p>

"Are you ready for the cold?" He asks. I don't answer, and then I quickly nod.

"Y-yeah."

I hear no answer, then I yelp at the first contact with the cold. I knew it was ice, but I felt none of the condensation on my back. They piece together my gown, I can feel it, and when I feel nothing more, my eyes close tighter in anticipation. The feeling of cold is gone now.

"Open your eyes," Cinna finally says.

I blink, and then I see it.

"Cinna….its…..it's amazing."

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><p><em>"Because...because maybe <em>you're _my way home."_

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><p><em>Review!<em>


	15. The Beauty of Snow

_Hello, hello! Thank you once again for the reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

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><p>I look as gentle as the snow falling outside my house last winter. Not a puffball of white, and not a sliver of ice. Just…the beauty of snow.<p>

A vision of white and light blue is what I see. I could be a bride, if it weren't for the details that made it not a wedding dress. The dress itself is close to the body, flaring at the top of my knees like a mermaid tail. The bottom flares into flurries of tulle, very minimally out at the front and elongating towards the back, like a train. In the tulle is slivers of silver and light blue, shimmering in the light. The tulle fades like an illusion of wisps of snowflake-like swirls onto the top, a very light blue as the base color for the satin dress. From light blue it gradually fades onto the darkest royal blue at the top, where a halter begins. The chest area of my dress where the most prominent fade of color is embroidered with shimmery details, swirls of silver and a pinkish gold, vining its way from the sides of my waist to the top of my my halter, stopping at my neck. The halter itself stops at the beginning of my neck from under my face. No collar, but on my shoulders is silver-blue organza, ruched from the end of my halter mid-clavicle to the beginning of my shoulders.

Slowly, I turned around and looked back. I gasped.

My back was covered from the end of my lover back to my neck in crystalized ice. It glittered in the lighting, and inserted in swirls and shapes of the ice were jewels- not large and prominent, but subtle and made the ice shine even more- hidden in the curves. Swirling and swirling, the ice connected to the satin dress and organza shoulder attachments. From the organza, the same material was criss-crossed into the crystal strategically, dancing in ice to hold the dress together. However, this organza went from different hues of blues to silver to white to pink and repeating again until it disappears into the ice completely. I also see the tulle train more prominently, ending in a very subtle light blue.

I look up at Cinna.

"It's… I can't even…I…wow."

Cinna smiles. "You look beautiful, Lillianne." He says, coming to me. Everyone in my room- Zafrina, Venus, Bienna, and Cashmere- is speechless, staring at every detail of the gown. I myself know I missed some details, because the dress in its entirety is just breathtaking.

Still staring at myself in the mirror, I hadn't noticed Cinna had gone to a table to grab a can that looked like hairspray. He goes behind me and begins to spray the ice. At first, I feel cold, but then again I feel nothing. Cinna explains as Bienna comes to my front, a brush and a bottle of eyepaint in her hand.

"I'm spraying something onto your back for two reasons. One: so the back won't melt. Two: for the ice to sublimate a little. Have you ever breathed out in the cold weather, and you see your breath?"

I nod. He smiles.

"Well that's our effect. However, the latter won't be happening until show-time. "

Already outside, I hear commotion of other tributes and assistants yelling: "Thirty minutes to show-time! Thirty minutes to show-time!"

Bienna is swirling silver paint onto the sides of my eyes, and presses on flakes of silver and white as well. Zafrina spreads a minty gloss in a very light color on my lips.

"To make it look frosty," She says, winking. Venus puts in a few last crystal pins in my hair.

"Lillianne Snow…" Cashmere muses confidently, "You look amazing."

I breathe in, then out, giving Cinna my arms as he slides in two silver cuffs with similar designs from my back to my wrists.

"You can do this," I whisper to myself, not caring if they heard me, "You can do this."

* * *

><p>I step out of my tent, and the entire room hushes.<p>

I look forward to my chariot, ignoring them. Everyone is here. Everyone is watching. And everyone most certainly knows who I am. I can hear their murmurs. I'm joined by Demetrius as our prep team disassembles. I look over at him, and see we have some sort of matching theme. He has simple white pants with jewels weaving their way from the bottom to the top in a similar fashion as the embroidery of my dress's upper half. He's wrapped in different colors of chiffon, all different shades of blue and white and silver. Jewels are intertwined in there as well, topaz and emerald gems, pearls, diamonds- they match his crown. Over the wrapped around top, he has crystalized ice over the chiffon ties, starting wide from his broad shoulders and thinning until it ends at his waist. It has the same carvings of swirls and shapes as my back piece, and has jewels incrusted into them as well. His back is like a cape, using the concept of the organza tying into the crystal designs differently. From shoulder to shoulder, white organza is draped in three different levels. On the outer edge of the draping, the organza falls, one piece on one side and the other on the other, and falls to the ground like a train. He smiles at me half-heartedly.

"You look decent, Snow." He whispers. I shoot him a glance, but accept the almost compliment.

We stop at the chariot and are helped onto it by Cinna and Demetrius's head stylist Jaques. We face backwards, and we can see the eleven other chariots. I feel like smacking my forehead at the sight of the other tributes' costumes.

It's ridiculous, really. They're all rip-offs of Cinna's past works. Fire is everywhere, some working and some failing. So are the water-trains, and somehow District Four is both drowning in water and burning in leather. Makes no sense at all.

"Do you realize that you're the most original person in this room?" I question annoyingly, looking down at Cinna. He laughs, as does Jaques.

"Oh, ignore that," Jaques says, her voice rather high pitched, "Cinna's grown used to it."

I shrug, and I turn to see Demetrius staring at something. I look in that direction, looking for his focus point for a few moments. It's when the focal point reaches Cinna that I know why he's frozen.

"It's Katniss Everdeen," Demetrius grumbles, "And Peeta Mellark."

Our mouths drop, because we've never been so close to them. Not even when they came through the victory tour- and I wasn't allowed near them!- did we come to such closeness. Not only that, but they were eyeing us. _US_!

"Do you ever run out of ideas, Cinna?" Katniss asks, her voice reverberating in my ears. Peeta puts his arm around her.

"Leave the man alone." He tells her. He then looks up at me. "You two look amazing. Job well done, Cinna."

I blush. Demetrius says nothing. We nod in unison.

"So how are you two?" Cinna converses briefly, after pulling in both Katniss and Peeta for a hug. They begin talk, and I'm about to turn around when I stop. My heart skips a beat.

He's here.

He's in a leather suit with accents of red and gold, almost like flames. I can see he's not on fire. He has red leather gloves and black boots, blocks of red and yellow closing them. He has red flame-like things coming out of his shoulders. His grey eyes are prominent from the coal- or black makeup- around his eyes. His hair is messy, with red specks of glitter- although not as shiny as ours- in and around his hair.

I'm staring at him. He's in the last Chariot, the one pitch black with horses as dark as night. He's far away. He's nowhere near me.

Yet our eyes meet. My stomach starts to hurt.

_ Alexander Romulus. _

"Five Minutes!" Someone shouts, and he interrupts my thoughts. Suddenly, the room begins to refocus. Tributes are talking to their mentors. Katniss and Peeta are long gone, and already by their own tributes. Alexander is one of them. He's still looking at me.

And so am I.

He smiles slightly.

I feel a grin pulling at my mouth.

He looks away shyly.

"Hey."

My focus is gone, as is my smile. I compose myself, turning to Demetrius swiftly. He's watching me.

"Uh-what?" I say in a hushed tone. He nudges me to look beside me.

"Cashmere wants to talk to you." He says. I nod and look down my chariot to see Cashmere. She looks at me up and down one more time. Her eyes sparkle.

"Best costume. Hands down." She replies. I chuckle.

"You're our mentor." I respond, "You're supposed to favor us."

She flicks her hand and scoffs. "Oh, details."

We laugh, and she looks at the chariots behind us. She looks back at me.

"Make them remember you. They'll love you." She insists. I nod. She adds one more thing.

"The Games begin now."

"SIXTY SECONDS!" Someone shouts. My stomach does a flip. Cinna is behind me, and is spraying the can like crazy, coating it more than five times. Already, wisps of white are emanating from my dress. He does one more coat and comes to my side.

"Smile," Cinna says with a smile himself, "Your mentor is right. They'll love you. Wave, look at them in the eyes, and always smile." He takes my hand. "Show them what your made of, Miss Snow."

He rubs my arm comfortingly, nodding, and he runs behind Cashmere, Jaques, and Gloss to take their seats. I look back one last time, and this time I'm met with Katniss's eyes. Startled, I look around, then look at her. She gives me a knowing smile. She looks up at her tribute, Alexander, and whispers in his ear. He looks at me, and he blushes, shaking his head at her.

I have no time to wonder what they were doing, because I'm being pulled by Demetrius. He's looking down at me with his brown eyes.

"Ready, Snow?" He asks, giving me his arm, seeing he has similar patterns on his upper arms as I did on the edge of my eyes.

I understand this angle. Friendly, not in love. It's more than that, I'm sure. But the crowd will only see us. I intertwine my arm with his, feeling the cool ice brush against my arm. I nod.

"Ready, Florence."

And without a glance back at the handsome boy from Twelve, I watch the doors open before us, the crowd's cheers deafening.

And the easiest part of the Games begin.

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><p><em>I might just post a pic of my sketch of the dress on my profile. Just might...<em>

_But anyway, you know the drill! REVIEW! C:_


	16. Stolen

_Surprise! I have decided to give you all a new chapter early! Enjoy!_

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><p>At first, the lights are blinding. And then I realize I haven't even gotten to the square.<p>

I grip Demetrius as our chariot begins to pull out. I look up to him and he looks down at me, and we have the exact same look on our face. Fear, nerves, and excitement. You start to hear the cheering of the crowd get louder and louder- then when the sound is deafening, you know you're there.

So many people. That's what I see first. People in bright clothing, dark clothing, dressed like Juniper, dressed even more extravagant than Juniper, and anything else in between. They're waving their hands at us, screaming our names.

"Lillianne! Demetrius!"

I wonder how they know our names. I find out soon. Looking up at one of the multiple screens, I see myself, my blue eyes bright from the lights and make-up. Demetrius looks up as well, and he's glowing. We look ethereal, visions in white and blue, and we can hear Ceasar Flickerman somewhere, commenting our outfit. Our names are on the screen, with stats that even I didn't know about myself. Ceasar says he's speechless. We've literally left him speechless. The crowd agrees, and just goes wild. Demetrius and I unlatch from each other and exchange glances. In his eyes, I see the same offer again, even if he wasn't hinting at it. I turn away from him.

Smiling, I begin to wave. He starts to wave as well, pumping his fists in the air. I wave delicately, and I catch a flower in my hand. A white lily. How ironic.

I look up at the direction of the flower and blow a kiss. Hundreds dive for it.

We're not even halfway through the long strip of concrete the tribute parade is held in. The tributes behind us file in, and I can hear their commentary. However, they're not sidetracked for long. We pass the halfway mark, and the familiar feeling of cold ensues.

"And look at District Ni-wait. What's going on with One?" Ceasar says.

I smile as I look up at the screen. The ice is sublimating. Wisps of white fly from my back, as well as from Demetrius's ice piece, and we're enfolded in smokey flares of ice release. My back is shining even more, and the black wisps cover the other Districts behind us.

We've literally _smothered_ them.

"That's amazing!" Ceasar shouts, laughing his Ceasar laugh.

The crowd's eyes are glued to us. Smiling and without a second thought, I take Demetrius's hand.

And then I see the screen. Our hands are clasped together. And they're not pulling away.

_ Oh. No._

I look at Demetrius, panic in my eyes. But his look is different. It's smug. It's like he has a plan.

He raises our hands.

"That's what I like to see!" Ceasar bellows. "District Pride! And District One has dominated this parade with that pride!" The crowd cheers us on, some mimicking our movements, shouting our names, and trying to throw things at us. Ceasar's on a roll, complimenting Cinna and how his handiwork never fails.

He doesn't announce Ten or Eleven. He slightly announces Twelve. We stole the show.

_ We _stole_ the show! _

We pull up to our part of the semi-circle formed by the tributes when our run in the parade ends and we listen to my grandfather- I mean, President Snow give a speech. We come to a harsh halt, and hands still raised, our wisps of white sublimation are gone, disappearing like breath on a winter's day. We put our hands down, smiling at each other like fools. The crowd goes insane when our effect disappears.

The tributes file in, and it's no secret that they are not happy. Districts Two, Three and Eleven are staring us down. Four, Five, and Seven are staring at us in awe. Six, eight and nine are just staring at everything around them. Ten and Twelve give us impressed looks. Their attempts at fire and water fade away, fizzling out like a a candle that couldn't light. This seems to make them all the more unhappy.

When Twelve pulls in, I meet eyes with Alexander Romulus. I give him an encouraging smile, until I then get glared at by his counterpart.

She's in the exact same costume as Alexander, only her hair is dipped in black, frizzed in different directions. Her hair reminded me of Cornelia's. Her brown eyes stand out in the smokey eye-make up they used to make it look like coal exploded from their eyes. She's around as tall as Alexander, and has olive skin. She stared me down, scrunching up her nose. I get uncomfortable and try to look away.

Alexander bumps her in the stomach when he sees what I see. She gives him a look, and he rolls his eyes, meeting my eyes again. I let go of Demetrius's hand and pull away, gravitating a bit towards Alexander. Alexander grins.

I snap out of it myself before Demetrius clumsily reaches for my hand again. I turn to see the camera make one more pan of the tributes, and I understand his actions once more. I nod a bit when I see him trying to look at me from the corner of his eye. I smile again, and he catches on, raising our hands one last time. We wave with our free hands.

That's when my eyes go to a pair of iridescent blue eyes that match my own. I see the recognition in those eyes. And my heart begins to race.

_My grandfather is here to make a speech._

_My grandfather will wish us all luck._

_My grandfather will see his granddaughter as a tribute for the first time._

For a brief moment, he looks at me, then waves at the people of his beloved Capitol. I look away from him, staring straight ahead. His voice is the only thing I can't channel out.

"Tributes of Districts One through Twelve! Welcome to our Capitol!" The crowd cheers. I stare straight, still. "I wish you all luck. Happy Hunger Games!"

The crowd erupts in wild cheering. I squint my eyes in confusion. He's not even giving a riveting speech. He's repeating slogans. Why are these people going insane?

"And may the odds," He concludes, "Be ever in your favor."

He ends his 'speech', and looks straight at me. I stare at him now, eyes narrowed slightly. He's getting hurried by many people to get off the stage. I feel the need to speak to him before he leaves, but then I remember where I am. I'm not going anywhere tonight.

"And that concludes the Tribute Parade! Remember, in four days, the Tributes will have their interviews with yours truly, Ceasar Flickerman!" Ceasar cuts off my thoughts. "Goodnight, Panem!"

President Snow frowns, and exits swiftly through the back, waving absently.

With not even a smile to his granddaughter, Lillianne Snow.

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><p><em>A short one, but I really couldn't wait! C: Review, please!<em>


	17. And His Name Was Alex

_Reviews! YAY! lol Thank you guys for reviewing my story! Without those reviews, we'd be nowhere._

_Anyway, enjoy~_

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><p>The gates and large doors close behind Demetrius and I, being the last ones on the way back. Amidst the shouting and crying and waving at us, I played up our strategy- friends.<p>

When our chariot came to a stop, I turned to Demetrius, my frozen smile turning into a real one. He smiles back, a little dazed because he's blinking incessantly.

"We…we did it." I say. He nods slowly, taking in my words. More like taking in the whole twenty minutes or so of the parade.

"We-we did it!" I say more exuberantly. He smiles wider now, and he whoops.

I laugh.

"Did you see that?" He asks excitedly, shaking my shoulders. "You're dress was like _WOOSH_ and my vest thing was like _WOOSH_ too! And then your dress started to glitter in the bottom like a blizzard, and then how we totally covered everyone in our ice-smoke stuff-just- wow! You-!"

He grabs me by the waist and spins me around, surprisingly. I go along, laughing. I wonder briefly how he was able to carry the weight of the dress and myself, when my thoughts are interrupted. He pulls me in tightly for a hug.

"You were amazing." He says in my ear.

I freeze. He's clutching me tight, and I wonder if he's conscious of the actions he's committing. He's not pulling away, so I slowly put my arms around his neck- as his are around my waist- and hug him, feeling the ice under my arms.

"You guys were brilliant!" Cinna raves.

We pull away awkwardly, averting each other's gaze. Cinna and Jaques are already by our chariot, and Gloss and Cashmere are close behind.

"Marvelous," Jaques comments.

"YOU GUYS ROCKED IT!" Cashmere shouted, putting her hands up in the air. Gloss laughs at her.

"Yes, you guys rocked it." He says, a little more composed. Cashmere punches him in the arm.

"You gotta say it with passion! Lilly _ROCKED_. Demetrius _ROCKED_. They can't touch us!" She says, gesturing to the room in general. I casually look that direction, but do a double take. The Careers- District 2- are staring at our group. Their coaches are reprimanding them, gesturing at us. The boy tribute from Two is staring both Demetrius and I down.

"Ignore them," Gloss grumbles, loud enough for us to hear, "Don't let them get in your head."

I see multiple other tributes or their mentors pointing at us, staring at us, and commenting about us. Cinna gets my hand and helps me down.

"The crowd adored you, Lilliane," He tells me in a hushed tone, as Jaques speaks with Demetrius. Cashmere follows behind. Our entourage of District One is exiting.

"Princess, you're GOLDEN!" She says through her teeth, excited. "Now all we need to do is develop that knife and show the gamemakers-"

She stops when we pass Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark with their entourage. I'm closer to Alexander now more than ever, and we're now face to face. Demetrius is by my side, still speaking to Jaques.

"Congratulations, Lillianne," Katniss Everdeen says quietly. I'm struck with shock. She congratulated me, not Demetrius. She gives me a smile, one of those smiles you share with a person when you're thinking the same thing.

Only I'm not thinking whatever she is.

She turns to Cinna. "I really do wish you'd outfitted our tributes," She says. Cinna sighs.

"Lillianne has…the spark." He said. "I couldn't say no."

Katniss winks. "And I thought I was the only living person with that spark."

Suddenly, I feel like I'm intruding in a conversation that's not meant for me. I then meet eyes with Alexander Romulus. The conversation fades in my ears.

He smiles.

_Introduce yourself,_ my mind says.

"Uh-" I move forward, giving him my hand. "I'm Lillianne."

His eyes flicker to Demetrius, then to mine. He hesitantly touches my hand. "I'm Alex."

At his touch, I feel shivers down my spine. I want to blame the ice, but I know it's not that. A grin comes to my lips, and he winks at me.

Before we can say anything else, we're both pulled off into our respective groups. We keep our eyes on each other as we're pulled apart. We reach different exits, and he smiles at me, shrugging a 'what-can-we-do?' shrug. I laugh.

The door closes behind me, leaving whatever conversation I held with Alexander to the dust.

* * *

><p>"And now to your rooms."<p>

The elevator doors open, and Demetrius and I gasp. It's nothing we'd ever seen before.

"Usually, District One gets first floor, but this year, you guys got moved up to the Penthouse."

Before us, a giant crystal chandelier welcomed us. Floors of marble, a large wooden table with an even larger arrangement of flowers were at the beginning of the room. Behind it was the living area, a couch built as a semicircle in front of a blank wall that I guessed projected would become a television. One the opposite end of that room was an elevated area, with a glass dining table seating nine and already set up for dining. Slinking in between the dining and living areas was a carpet of pink, matching the spring palette in the room. Another chandelier hung above the dining table.

"Now, Cinna and Jaques will go to your rooms to help you out of your costumes. After that, you have about an hour until Dinner. Wash up, change, and explore the penthouse to your hearts' content. Be here in exactly one hour!" Cornelia instructed.

I followed Cinna through the carpet and to a hallway that broke into two directions, left and right. I went left, and Demetrius went right. When we got to the room, I gasped again.

Minimalist but beautiful, the bedroom was spring itself. The bed was on the main wall, low and bordered by peachy wood. The headboard was a rectangle, the same peach color but dotted with flowers creatively. The bedspread was watercolor blue with the pillows being white. A long, cylindrical pillow went from side to side, an evergreen color. Two nightstands sat on each side of the bed, one holding fresh flowers- an array of every lilly type imaginable- and on the other, a clock and a curved silver plate. The walls were a tranquil light blue, and my window was from ceiling to floor, showing the entire Capitol.

Cinna and I walked inside, and we stood in the middle of the room. He began to undo my dress from the ice.

"So how do you feel?" He asks quietly. I sigh.

"Nervous. Terrified. Excited. Confused." I confide in him. He chuckles.

"Confused?" He responds, pulling at my dress, "How so, dear?"

I don't answer, but after a pause I think he catches on. My inference is correct.

"Ah. Boys?"

I smile at the thought. It's funny when you say it that way, but he was right nonetheless.

"Something like that." I answer. He nods, and the ice is off my back. He places it in a box.

"Would it have to do with Demetrius?" He asks.

I bite my lip. "….Sort of."

He nods. After he undoes the bottom of my dress, he continues.

"Would it have to do with Alexander?"

I tense up. Was I that obvious? "…Sort of."

He laughs at my identical answers. "Well, you've got a big choice," He said. "Put out your arms."

I obey, and the dress falls. I step out of it as he hands me a robe and I pull it on. "A choice?"

He nods, picking up the dress. I watch him.

"Yes." he declares. "You have to boys. One can bring you home. The other is a mystery, but he catches your eye." He looks up and raises an eyebrow. "Am I right?"

I look down, eyes wide. "Yes. Dead on."

He grins. "Now, I'm not going to tell you to pick. I'm just going to tell you this." He stuffs the dress neatly into another box, then covers it with tissue paper. He comes to me, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Do what your heart feels is right. And if you're head agrees as well, then there's no reason not to carry it out."

I nod absently, trying to decode his piece of wisdom. He sees me try to understand, and he laughs.

"You don't have to figure that out yet," He assures, "But I do suggest you sort things out with yourself before the Games. You have two very nice young men who both seem to have interest in you."

My heart flutters. He gathers his things and begins to head out. He stops at the door.

"Although, Lillianne," He interjects, "I would give them both a chance."

And he leaves me alone in my room to my thoughts.

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><p><em>Review, review, REVIEW! :D<em>


	18. Dinner with Instruction

_I am so SORRY! I feel like I haven't updated in a long time :C_

_Maybe it's just me. Hehe, read on!_

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><p>An hour was very long. It's been half an hour and I've already showered, dressed, and looked around.<p>

I sat down on the bed, feeling it was a lot softer than my own back at home. I frown. I did miss my own bed, with clean white sheets and blue blankets. This bed was softer than mine in every way, the comforter even velvetier than my own worn blankets. I stroked the fabric, feeling the warmth it emanated.

My wardrobe had been stocked with every hue imaginable, with an influx of blue. Maybe that was part of my statistics: The color blue was my preference.

I smiled a bit, putting my hands on my knees. I feel my skin's temperature contrast from my knees and my hands. My hands are freezing.

Brushing my hair with a large brush from the bathroom, I think about District One. I never really felt like I could call it home, but now I feel more like that in my hometown of the Capitol than I did in One. I came to terms with the fact that I really did like One. I went through a normal day in One in my head.

I'd wake up wrapped in blankets, either on my own or by the force that is Juniper. Juniper- when she was home- was always on top of whatever it was I did. She would then take me in her car from the edge of One to the center, to the square. At the square, she'd drop me off to walk to school, and she'd go back to the mansion to help mother or something. I remember the square, a large space in town with two large- and I mean large - screens on two sides of the justice building. My dad worked in there. He'd always be there by the time I'd walk to school, and I'd wave 'hi' to him outside of his big window overlooking the street to school.

I wore a uniform, of course. It was a white shirt with a large collar-like front that looked like lapels, outlined in navy blue. The bottom was khaki, and the older kids were allowed variety in bottoms. The younger girls had to wear skirts, and the middle year girls shorts. I can almost feel the grip of my school bag, a canvas tote. The smell of bread wafts from the bakery by the main street. Bright colors from the windows of the dress shops catch my eye. Even the random popsicle guy is setting up his stand by the school gate. School is a blur, even if I do excel at mathematics and science. I'm exempted from Physical Education, also known as CTPA, or Career Training for the Physically Advanced. I'd be a level 9, the last rank before Masters Class, which Demetrius has been in since Seventh Year. After school, I headed home.

I didn't like to go home. I was always alone. Like I said, Juniper was mostly always gone, but she was the closest relative I had. Mom was gone in her mind, always stressed out by her work and fighting with Dad. Dad left in the wee hours of the morning and came back late at night. I only truly saw him when he had guests over, when we had to pretend we were a family. Mom and Dad can't get through a day without a fight, so dinner with guests or parties are always tense. At least for me.

Wincing, I pulled my legs up to the bed to sit cross-legged. I missed Juniper. She and I should've been at home, in her room, sitting beside her as we watched the Tribute Parade. We could've. We would wait for mom and dad to get home. I would worry about these kids already. She could tell me I was okay, that this would all be over soon, and everything would go back to normal.

I stopped. It wasn't going back to normal.

My stomach started to hurt. I felt my eyes get teary.

June would always be there. When mom wasn't, when dad wasn't, she would. Even if she was out of town, she was only a phone call away. She traveled in and out of the Capitol, but didn't waste time coming back just to check on me. She was mom _and_ dad.

A tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly, standing up. My window showed the night sky without a single star in sight. I sighed, and grabbed the curved silver plate by my nightstand. I knew what it was- it was a touch screen remote. Juniper brought one home as a gift, but we couldn't use it because we would have to update our system. I started to scroll down the settings.

I pressed "Forest". It appeared before me, trees higher then my head, the sound of mockingjays singing their songs. It was peaceful, but ominous. I almost expected someone to run out of those trees with a spear in hand.

Shuddering, I canceled. I pressed "Street View", and the screen changed. I saw Capitol people walking in daylight, chatting and laughing away. It was boring, and a little to much for me.

I scrolled down and pressed random, then waited as the screen buffered. I dropped the silver plate abruptly.

It was Juniper.

Her hair was styled in a sleek ponytail with an outrageous hair piece - a side bouquet of spring flowers - with a slimming white dress to the knees and sharp shoulders in light pink with white lace. She was walking down a line in front of other girls dressed similarly, with a look of determination in her smokey eyes. She was modeling, I assumed.

This is what she did when she was gone. This is what she did when I was at home, on my own.

I felt a knot in my throat considering the fact that I may not be coming home soon. I may not be going home…ever.

Juniper winks at the camera, giving a flirty smile and posing. She then walks away.

A weird noise escapes my throat as tears begin to stream. I was most likely going to die. And then June wouldn't have a reason to come home for mom and dad.

A knock sounds at my door. I don't answer. I stand there, watching in realization of my short future as my own sister walks away from me, stomping down a white strip of lighted walkway. I hear the sliding door open behind me, and I look away from the screen. It fuzzes and returns to City View.

Wiping my eyes, I ask, "What?"

"Cornelia says dinner's going to be ready soon so she sent me….are you okay?"

I sigh. It's Demetrius.

"You should knock before you come in." I responded, a little peeved. I turned to him, crossing my arms. I sniffed.

He shrugged. "I did. You didn't answer."

I scoff. "I could've been doing something."

"Then you should've yelled at me to leave." He retaliated. I sighed again.

We stand there awkwardly. I see he's changed out of his costume, and his face is clear again with no traces of the make-up from today. He opted for a light blue button up shirt rolled at the sleeves and khaki pants. He crossed his arms.

"You look…normal now." He remarked uneasily. I looked down at myself. I had changed into a pair of stretchy black pants and a short, creamy green tunic-like shirt with thick tank sleeves. My hair was still humid, laying on my shoulder.

"I guess I do." I answered, nodding. He scratched his head.

"Your hair is…really pretty down like that."

I blush, but stare at him with confusion in my face. I don't know if he's playing me, making nice with me, or he just doesn't know what to say. I don't question him however, because I remember that I, too, need a strategy.

"Th-thanks." I step forward. "Dinner?"

He looks up and changes his face from awkward to thoughtful. "Yeah. Dinner."

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><p>"Right on schedule!" Cornelia shrieks.<p>

Demetrius and I emerged from our living quarters without a word, and I took a seat beside him. He out-of-characteristicly pulled the chair out for me. I obliged, and soon Gloss and Cashmere joined us. Gloss and Demetrius exchanged strange looks with each other, but I ignored them as Cashmere tossed her hair to the side and turned to Cinna and Jaques, who had just taken their seats.

"So, I think a congratulation is in order?"

"No, no," Cinna said, scooting his chair in, "It's Demtrius and Lillianne who should be congratulated. They did excellent."

The people at our table clap in approval, and Demetrius and I nod in thanks. The avoxes come to our side to serve us, revealing our course for the night.

Dinner is a blur, not only because I was lost in thought over Demetrius's strange behavior, but also by my lack of interest in the table's topics of conversation. Gloss and Demetrius openly talked about his skills, as training did start tomorrow morning. Talk of his great skill with a sword and crossbow was a little terrifying. Cashmere and Cornelia talked about a "retro comeback" in fashion, and Cornelia applauded Cashmere for her taste in outfit choice for the opening ceremonies. Cinna and Jaques were talking about a palette for Demetrius and I that would serve well for the interviews. I heard matching in his sentences, and I shuddered a bit.

I chewed my chicken alfredo in silence, staring absently at the table. Cinna nudges me from under the table after a few minutes.

Looking up, I meet his gaze. His eyes ask me without using words, "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, smiling half-heartedly. I go back to my food without another look at him.

In my head, I was debating over things. Many things. Like if Demetrius was suddenly starting to like me, or if it was mere strategy. Or the fact that training is tomorrow, and I really don't have a plan for myself. And maybe even the fact that come tomorrow, I'll finally be able to talk to the kid from Twelve. I smile genuinely at the thought.

"Hey."

I look up, a trace of my smile still on my lips as I felt the nudge beside me. "What are you smiling about?" Demetrius asks.

Smiling again to myself and wiping my mouth, I answer.

"Oh, nothing."

With that, I folded the napkin and placed it on the table. I rose from my seat. "May I be excused? I'm done, and I need some fresh air."

Cashmere stood before anyone could say anything.

"I'll go with you," She said, hinting at something I honestly didn't catch on to. I nodded to the people at the table, didn't dare look at Demetrius, and then whispered a thank you to the avoxes as we passed them onto the elevator.

"Are you sure you aren't going to watch the tribute parade replay-"

"We'll catch it later!" Cashmere interrupted. She slid us into the elevator quickly, and pressed the button to go up.

She took us to the roof top, and we walked to the edge of it, passing a small garden, a bigger garden with a gazebo, and finally reaching the thick balcony's edge. I could sit on the railing, and still not fall over.

"So training starts tomorrow," She says. I nod, feeling the shivers down my spine. My fists ball up.

"It helps if you're not afraid," She adds. I laugh a bit.

"That's kind of irrevocable." I remark, crossing my arms over my chest. She smiles.

"Well, at least pretend you're not."

I shrug, and sway quietly for a few moments. Cashmere is the first to break the silence. She turns to face me. "Listen to me. I want you to follow my instructions, so listen very closely."

I move my body to look at her, a little taken aback from the urgency in her voice. I nod ever so slowly.

"You will not touch a knife. Not until the game makers see you. I'll personally request a private practice for you, but I can't promise you anything. Tomorrow, hit the survival skills. Make friends with the Careers, but don't get to friendly. Remember that they'll eventually want to kill you. They'll get you to the final eight, and they'll have to ally with you because of who you are. District Two has already confirmed an alliance with you."

"Two?" I interrupt, shocked. "With me?"

"You're a Career, remember?" She winked, and continued on. "Hit as many survival skills as you can, okay? No dummy kicking or stick slicing or target shooting. I don't care how much Demetrius or any other Career tribute wants you to train with them in combat. Lay. Low."

I take in her instructions, a thoughtful look in my face. After a moment, I whimper out a reply. "And what happens then?"

She sighs. "Then we'll let the odds decide."

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><p><em>Review please!<em>


	19. New Recruits

_So I have a feeling you all might like this one..._

_Enjoy c;_

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><p>Training for the bloodbath might just be as scary as the real thing.<p>

Demetrius and I arrived second to the last at the training center wearing our black and red uniforms. On our arm, the number "1" was etched into the fabric in gold. My hair is pulled back into a bun, thanks to my prep team's hairstylist Venus. She also cut my bangs a little more so they wouldn't bother me, and she washed out the blue highlights in my hair. She wrapped a pink bow around the bun, to Cinna's request. Demetrius's hair is normal, minus the blue highlights and glitter from last night.

We stand in a circle with the other tributes while we wait for Two to arrive. I look around and scour the tributes, as Cashmere prompted me to do this morning.

I see the tall girl from District 11 and see her hair is not pulled back, frizzing wildly all over the place. She's dark-skinned, with large, light coral lips and piercing green eyes. Her hair is black as night. She's standing beside her male tribute counterpart, a boy a bit smaller than her but just as muscular. He has a short buzz cut with the same color of hair as the girl tribute. He has dark brown eyes.

Turning to the other side of the circle, I see the twins. One boy, and one girl, both with silky red hair. The boy's is long, falling to his ears and covering his forehead. He has sea green eyes and freckles the color of sand. His sister is a mirror image of him, with stick straight hair in two high pigtails.

Beside us, Alex and his female counterpart come to stand next to us. The circle is in numerical order, therefore they end the circle. Alex is beside me, and he nudges me. I look up to him and he smiles, mouthing 'good morning'. I smile back.

The girl beside him nudges him to pay attention. I look over at her, and see she has tamed her hair, actually it being darker brown now and waving down in a side ponytail. Her skin is clear and ivory, actually very porcelain- something I wouldn't have noticed in the Tribute parade. She's tall and slender, and I can almost bet she's eighteen.

Alex rolls his eyes and turns, winking at me. Demetrius nudges me as well, and I turn.

District Two has arrived. The male is strong and dirty blonde, like the generic District Two tribute. His counterpart is a girl a bit shorter than him but equally built with black hair, hair so black it was almost blue. In a slick ponytail, only her blunt bangs covered her forehead.

A woman comes towards the center of the circle, standing on the podium. She's dark skinned, with a slick bob with curled ends. She has a track suit similar to our own training clothing, but hers says 'Head Trainer' on her breast. She clears her throat.

"Welcome to the Training Center," She says, "Each of you has been chosen to fight to the death in the 76th Annual Hunger Games. Each of you will represent your Districts in this game. This is the Training center. For four days, you will train in this facility to prepare for the Games."

She turns to the other side of the room. "There are about fifty stations around this room. You all will have at least seven group exercises today, and after that, you may go off on your own. I do highly suggest you hit the survival skills, because the not all of you will die by hand. Half of you will die by dehydration. One fourth, hunger. One eighth, weather."

Turning back to us, she ends her speech. "Therefore, choose wisely. One rule: Do not get in altercation with any other tributes. You will have enough time for that in the arena. There are trainers on hand for hand-to-hand or arm-to-arm combat. Other than that, good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor. "

She steps off the podium and walks away. Our group gets called to line up in order of District to sprint distances and dodge items.

Demetrius and I are first.

We walk up to our spots and see the first distance, at the end of the room. Demetrius shrugs, and I prepare in a semi-runners stance. I'm the one who did track, and you can tell the difference between Demetrius and me.

When the buzzer sounds, we ran. I was a lot faster than Demetrius, by far, and behind me I hear a smack. Demetrius has bumped into an object. I look forward and see an object swing at my head. I roll forward on the ground and continue running. I reach the end of the course without breaking a sweat. I look back at the Tributes and Trainer.

Their eyes were wide, and all mouths were hung open.

I smiled, then took my place in the start of a new group drill.

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><p>After the first seven drills, we're dismissed for lunch break. I excel at the first four, running, and I even do pretty well at two more, climbing. The final one, an obstacle course, I did satisfactory. I finished the course.<p>

All through the day, I've been watched by District Two. Not to mention that I get to steal glances at Alex.

I line up for lunch on my own, and it seems I am the only one there. The lunch bell has sounded, but I am the only one who has already completed the obstacle course.

Sighing, I grab a tray and serve myself a salad, then grab a chicken salad sandwich. I reach for a water bottle, when someone is beside me.

"Hey, District One."

I look up beside me and see the District Two boy. I answer as I take a water bottle. "Hey, er, Two."

"The name's Gerrit. Nice to finally meet you," He takes my hand holding the tray on the table and kisses it. I jerk it back quickly.

"Uh- nice to meet you too. I'm Lillianne."

"Oh, we know who you are."

I turn to the other side of me and see the girl from District Two. She holds a tray of sushi in her hands, with a water bottle on it. "Your the president's granddaughter, Lillianne Snow."

"Yeah," I say, nodding and walking away to an empty table, "That's who I am."

"Well, I'm Cybele." She says, nudging me playfully. I start to get a little weirded out, but I remember what they're doing.

They're recruiting me as a Career.

"Hey!" I turn to see Gerrit motioning at the twins. "You! Four! Come sit with us. You too, Eleven!"

The twins and the two dark-skinned giants stared at us as we sat at a table in the middle, and eventually did come to sit with us. Demetrius slid in beside me.

"So Lilly," Demetrius says, unscrewing his energy drink's top, "What do you think of our little team?"

"It's Lillanne." I say, sticking a fork in the salad, "And I guess it's fine."

He rolls his eyes. "You really don't get it?"

I take some lettuce in my mouth. "Get what?"

"Why we picked Four and Eleven." He whispers. I chew, nodding and taking it in. Then I shake my head to contradict my earlier answer.

"We picked them for obvious reasons," Gerrit says across from me, unwrapping a sub sandwich. "The twins from Four are small, but they have skills with nets, traps, and the spear and trident." The twins sit across from each other in our table, looking up at us meekly.

"Eleven is pretty obvious too." Cybele remarks, pointing her fork at the tall figures walking our way. "They're fast- but not as fast as Lillianne- and they can work hand to hand combat. I think the girl can use an axe too, because I saw her eyeing that one in the weapons rack."

The teens from eleven sit now, and stare at each other as if having a silent conversation with their eyes. Finally, the female turns to us, her hair bouncing wildly.

"What do you want?"

She spoke for all of us, at least for me. Demetrius smiles at Gerrit, raising his eyebrow.

"We want to be allies." Demetrius says.

At the word, I see the twins look at each other with looks of disbelief. But Eleven is still narrowing their eyes suspiciously.

"Why us?" The Eleven girl asks, crossing her arms.

"Why not you?" Cybele answers. "You're strong. You're light. You're tall. You intimidate those losers."

I feel a sting in my chest when she calls the rest of the tributes losers. But I keep quiet, picking at my salad.

"So what do you say?" Gerrit prompts. "Allies?"

Four and Eleven take judgement on each other, looking at every aspect and probing their bodies and looks.

"We're in," The Eleven boy says.

"We'll be allies with you all," The girl from four says.

I'm a little taken aback from the girl from Four's voice. It's even squeakier than I thought it would be. Now I'm certain it was her first year in the reaping. Her twin nods eagerly.

"Well then, now that that's settled," Cybele remarks, clapping her hands. "Names?"

"Demetrius."

"Gerrit."

"I am, of course, Cybele."

The girl from Four cocks her head to the side. "I'm Dezidora. But you can call me Dezzy."

Her twin crosses his arms. "Marcel. Dezzy's brother."

The boy from Eleven tears his sandwich in half. "Anko."

The girl glares at us. "Korto."

They all turn to me. _Really_?

"Um-"

Before I can say my name aloud, someone is calling me with authority in their voice.

"Lillianne Snow?"

My name echoes across the lunchroom, and twenty-three pairs of eyes fall upon me. My fork falls.

I stand up nervously. "Um…here?"

A woman in a monochrome colored dress and black heels was standing at the door. Her pink glasses were on her nose, looking around the room. She held a tablet of silver.

"I need Lillianne Snow." She says again, more urgently. I step forward awkwardly.

She sees me, then eyes me up and down. Finally she comes to me, whispering skittishly.

"Your grandfather has requested a word with you."

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><p><em>Review and you'll get a new chapter...c:<em>


	20. Honor

_Happy Easter, guys! I hope you all enjoy this one. And thanks for the reviews!_

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><p>It was pretty ominous the moment we got to the mansion. Guards were everywhere, as well as normal peacekeepers. The lady was terrified of me, as I could see she was shaking like a leaf beside me in the town car the President had sent for me. She watched me from the corner of her eye, playing with her electronic tablet all the way there.<p>

As we walked through the halls of the mansion I knew by memory, I looked down at my clothing. Skinny black pants made of cooling material, black with a red and grey stripe down the sides, clung to my legs formfittingly. The shirt matched the pants, with red and grey down my ribs. 'One' etched on the short sleeves, I sighed. This was starting to look unfair. I wasn't really District Born- I was a Capitol child.

But did it matter?

We came to the porch house of glass, and again we were outside, only this time it was quiet, oblivious to the sounds of the city. I heard the chirping of birds. I smelled roses and lilies and juniper and poppies. I knew where we were.

My grandfather's garden.

"Your gr- the president is by the lake. He wants a word with you alone." The woman in monochrome said hurriedly. I nodded, not looking back at her.

"Thanks," I grumbled, and I stepped down the concrete and tile squares, walking off into the maze I came to learn when I was little. I immediately saw the poppies and chrysanthemums growing first. Then the lilies and junipers, planted in the honor of the president's granddaughters. Deeper into the maze, I smelled the stench of white and red roses.

Grandfather's roses always did scare me.

I remember the first time I was allowed into the garden, at about four years old. Grandpa carried me in, showing me the different colors of roses he had created. But none were like the white roses. He was fond of those.

_"Remember Lilly," He said to me as he cut a stem of flowers for me to take to my mom, "Even the most beautiful of flowers can hide the danger of thorns."_

I shivered.

I came across the lake soon, thank goodness, and my boots made a squeaky sound in the tile underneath me now. There was a small gazebo in white, with creamy fabric flowing from it's openings. I faltered at my step when I came face to face with him.

In robes of grey and purple, President Snow sat on one of the benches in the gazebo, clipping a white rose from it's thorns. He had aged, his hair whiter than yesterday. Maybe he was overdone in make-up last night, but now he really did look like a grandfather. His piercing blue eyes were focused on the rose before him. Beside him were lilies.

I stepped into the gazebo, my boots clunky on the wooden surface. The President looked up at me, and his face changed.

Sadness crossed his eyes.

I shifted uncomfortably on my legs, crossing my left arm to my right to rub my shoulder.

"You…you sent for me?" I said after a long period of silence. He stood, then looked at me, from head to toe. He came and put his hands on my shoulders. Even at my older age, he towered over me. He sighed.

"I never thought I'd see you like this." He answered after the silence. His voice was strained. I gulped.

"I know." I replied. "Neither did I."

He pressed his lips together. "I am truly sorry, Lilly."

That's when I broke. Tears started to stream from my eyes. I cursed myself. I couldn't even be strong for my own grandfather. I held back the heaving sobs wanting to come out. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to represent this stupid District, the district I wasn't even born into.

I forgot he was the president, because I crashed into his arms, wrapping them around his old body like I did when I was a child. My face burried into his chest.

"I know," I cried into his robes. He hugged me back.

"You have to be strong, Lilly." Snow said with his authoritative voice.

"I know," I answered again, nodding.

"You will fight until the very end."

I pulled away. "W-what?"

"Lillianne, this is what the people of Panem need. To see that anyone- _anyone_ can survive these Games. Even those of non-District blood."

My mouth drops open.

"What are you saying?" I whimpered, moving back a bit farther.

"You're bringing a new light into our country." He said, stroking my cheek. "You can calm our people down."

"The rebellion." I whispered. My grandfather scoffs.

"They're a failure," He says icily, looking out at the lake.

"They're a threat," I mumble to myself, considering the fact that if my grandfather was worried about the rebellion, that they were causing damage.

"Oh please, Lillianne." He says again.

"So…there's no way out of this, is there?" I ask slowly. My grandfather doesn't meet my gaze.

"There isn't." I answer myself. "How could you let this happen?" I whispered. My eyes narrowed in hurt.

"Lilly, now is the time to worry about the future of Panem."

"_No_!" I shouted suddenly. "This is not the time to worry about Panem. It's about how you're allowing you're youngest granddaughter to fight -_ to the death_ - in an arena. This is about how you did nothing to save _me_! It's about how you probably don't even _care_!"

I'm breathing heavy now, and I'm surprised at my sudden outburst of rage. His eyes are baffled. I pull my training shirt down.

"Lilly-"

"No." I interrupt. "I'm sorry. I just…. I can't believe this is happening."

"It's an honor, Lilly. And I am very, very proud of you, darling." Grandfather coos. He's about to hug me again, but I step back. I look down at my training boots, black leather with straps from instep to shin. I notice the contrast between him and me. A tribute and a Capitol citizen. I remember the last time I was here.

_ "Grandpa, why can't we come visit you anymore?" _

_My grandfather sighs. "It's not safe for you to travel here, back and forth, Lilly. And besides, you must fulfill your duty elsewhere. Make grandpapa proud."_

_I was wearing Capitol wear. A pink frilly dress with my blonde hair in pigtails. I still didn't understand. _

_ "Grandpapa, can we come back to watch the games here?" _

_ He shakes his head. _

_ "Aw. I wonder what it'd be like to be in the Games. It looks so cool…" _

_ "You, my dear, will never have to worry about that. I promise you."_

I come back to normal time, and see that a lot has changed. The ribbon in my hair flaps with the wind, reminding me of this.

"You promised."

He looks at me from his spot, a bit confused.

"When I was nine," I say, a little louder, "You promised."

"That was before." He answered, shaking his head. "That was before, all of- _this_ happened.

"It doesn't matter." I said.

He sighs.

"I really hoped this would never happen, Lilly," He replies ruefully. "But now that it has, I expect you to show Panem what you're made of."

I nod sarcastically.

"Tell me how that turns out," I remark. "Because I don't feel honorable. I feel horrible. I am disgusted with myself. In four days, I'm going to kill people, people that aren't even old enough to get to secondary school. But yes, Mr. President. It is truly an honor. Let me know how much of an honor it is when you see me live because I had to kill others." Then, with acid in my words, I say one last thing.

"If I even come back alive!"

I stomp off, breaking into a sprint. All I smell is roses, roses everywhere. I feel like puking, the stench making my head hurt.

My grandfather wasn't worried. He wanted me to keep Panem in check. He wanted me to bring the Rebellion down by just being in the Games. It didn't matter if I lived and won, or if I died in the bloodbath.

I was yet another piece in these stupid games.

I kicked a rosebush and stomped all over it before I got out of the maze. I kicked it in such a fury, that I never knew I had. Why couldn't I just go home? Why was I picked to begin with? Why is nothing going right?

Why couldn't the odds ever be in _my_ favor?

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><p><em>So...review?<em>


	21. Do You Like Me?

_So thank you for the awesome reviews, guys! You guys are awesome, and I thank you for reading! _

_New chapter~_

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><p>The way back to the Training Center was quiet and quick. I was driven back alone. The absurd woman with monochrome dress was left behind after I had shouted at her - to my embarrassment now - in the glass porch.<p>

"Miss Snow," The woman says, "The president has requested that you come see him tomorrow morning to straighten out-"

"No! Tell him he can see me during interviews on the television like everybody else!" I yelled, moving her out of my way. I stomped through his hallways and into the car, slamming the door. The driver dared not ask me anything but three words.

"Training Center, Miss?"

I was crying a bit, and I wiped my eyes. I nodded with a meek response. "Yes."

So when I came back, lunch was over, and everyone was beginning to disperse. Before I could scour a trip to the survival stations, Demetrius and Cybele were beside me, and they moved me with them to the weapons and shooting range. I sighed mentally, remembering this is exactly what Cashmere told me to steer clear of.

"So…" Demetrius says after Cybele is done babbling about how long she's been wanting to use the bow and arrow in the rack, "What happened?"

I don't look at him, but I know my face is angry. My lips are pressed together and I don't answer for a while. Cybele picks up the bow and arrow, and almost drops it because it's too heavy for her.

"Nothing." I answer firmly. Demetrius sighs. Before he can say anything, Garret comes to my side.

"So Ice Girl," He says in my ear, "What weapon do you use?"

I turn my back on Demetrius and look up at Garret. "Huh?"

"Weapon. You know…for attack?"

I consider my answer. I know Cashmere didn't want me working with the knives, but did she want me saying I could use them? Would it be smart to trust the Careers with my probably only good trait? I mean, I could run, but if they knew I could use a knife - and trust me, any knife would do - they could use it against me. I know I had very little time to answer this, so I considered starting my strategy with my own teammates.

"Oh…I don't have one."

His eyes widen in shock. He almost gasped in appall at this, but he simply said, "So…what do you...do?"

I smile slyly. "I run. And no one can catch me."

Cybele interrupts us. "Hey! Are we shootin' stuff or not?"

Garret follows her, watching me a little suspiciously, and I wink at him. He turns to the weapons and grabs a fat sword.

"What was that about?" Demetrius is by my side again. I'm watching Garret slice some dummies on the opposite side of Cybele and her shooting range. I see Korto using an axe, just as Cybele suspected. Anko was playing with knives.

I looked longingly at those knives. He didn't even know how to hold one right, let alone slice right. I wanted to correct him, but I turned to Demetrius, crossing my arms.

"Nothing," I answer again. He sighs.

"You know, allies are supposed to trust each other." He remarks. I smile.

"Oh yeah? Do you trust me?"

He smiles back. "Of course not. Do you trust me?"

I near his face sarcastically, batting my eyes. "My mom always said keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

We're close, and I think he thinks I'm going to kiss him or something because he blushes. He stammers. "I - uh -"

I move away from him swiftly, "So no. I don't trust you."

Walking away from him he calls for me. "Hey! Lillianne! Aren't you going to train?"

I turn to him, shaking my head. "No, I think I'll try some plants."

No one calls for me again, but I know the group of careers thinks I am a strange one, coming from District One and showing no interest in weapons. I shake off their stares and smile at the little girl from Four playing with a spear. She smiles back. I remember her name is Dezzy.

I'm walking towards the edible plants station and I settle down at the beginning where a trainer is just finishing with the girl from Twelve. She scrunches up her nose when she sees me, and she walks away.

"Oh!" The guy says, "Welcome to the Edible Plants Station."

I take in every word he says for the next few minutes, and I actually learn from his crash course. He lets me try it on my own while he goes to some thirteen year old looking kid from Three. He says that if I had any questions, to ask the other tributes working in his station.

Shrugging, I go off into the simulated little forest, and I look at the first bush I find. I see two different berries, one red and ripe and the other black as night. I know this is pretty obvious. Anyone who's seen last year's games will know what it is. I kneel down to it just to make sure-

"It's nightlock."

Before I can answer on my own, a male voice has answered for me. I turn on my knee, looking up at the voice. Then my hear skips a beat.

It's Alex.

"So, Ice Girl," He muses, joining me on the ground, "Come to the easier stations?" He nears my face suspiciously. "What are you hiding?"

His proximity is a little intoxicating, as I can see the little specks of blue in his grey eyes and smell the musky scent of his shampoo. I then wonder why I'm smelling him in the first place.

"It's Lillianne," I say out of habit, not liking being called anything but my name, "And no, I want to learn."

Alex narrows his eyes jokingly. "Hm. I don't believe it."

I stare at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding? So, genius, are you a secret Career or do you watch the Hunger Games religiously? You must do either of the two if you can figure me out."

Then I feel like I said the wrong thing because he scoffs defensively. "I have a good mentor. Katniss Everdeen?"

I tense. He's right. She's one of the greatest victors I've ever watched. Her morals, her strategy-

"She warned me about you, you know."

I snap out of it and see him still close to me. I feel my eyes are wide.

"Why?" I asked, a little breathless. He smiles.

"She thinks you like me."

I press my lips together. Then I try to ease the question. "Pft. You? A guy from Twelve. Please."

He gasps comically. "Do I look that insulting to be in your presence, your highness!"

I look up, a little confused at his name for me. "What?'

"Surely the King of this country's granddaughter must live her life like a princess!" He says in a Capitol accent. I laugh. Genuinely.

"You have no idea…" I mumble. He cocks his head to the side.

"What? Palace life too cool for you?"

I scoff. Then my voice softens. "More like it's too cool for me."

Immediately, I wish I hadn't opened up to him. Even the slightest bit. He looks sincere, but I can't trust him either, my mind tells me. This is a game. It's a game to all of us.

He nudges me. "Hey. Don't say that."

I look to my right and see a mint leaf. I recognize it from last year's game, and know I can chew it as food and use it as an herb.

"Mint leaves," I grumble, feeling them in between my fingers. He looks over.

"Right."

I look back at him and smile. He returns it.

Someone clears their throat behind us. I look up to see the majestic girl from Twelve. Alex rolls his eyes.

"Fern-"

"You know what Katniss told you." She said firmly. Her voice was hard and husky, the sound of an adult. Alex looks at me, then back at her.

"Fern, Peeta said make friends. Hence, I made a friend." He gestures at me, then grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me. I blush.

"She's not a friend," She says with hostility towards me, "She's a Career. She'll kill you when she has the chance."

Fern crosses her arms in front of her chest. Alex sighs.

"Look, I like her. She doesn't look like she'll kill me. " He answers. Then he covers the side of his mouth humorously, even though I can hear his extremely loud whisper. "_Besides ...I - think - she - likes - me - too_!"

I giggle. Alex was a very comedic guy, I was learning. Fern rolled her eyes at him now.

"Fine. Like each other. Then don't come running to me when one of you gets their head cut off by a one of _her_ friends." She walks away to the rope tying station without another look back.

I feel a cold rushing through my spine. I shiver, and Alex turns to me, laughing.

"Don't listen to her," He said, "She's just mad because my mentor…uh…likes me better."

I smile politely and stand up. He stands with me. I walk to another part of the mini forest. I see intense green plant with weird designs on it. I've seen this one in my backyard.

"Poision Ivy." I say. Alex nods.

"Yup." He answers awkwardly. I rub my shoulder.

Suddenly, I have nothing left to say. I don't know what to say, period. He's making me nervous. I decide not to give him the satisfaction.

"So…um…I think I'm heading to another station." I put out there, trying to end my first real conversation with Alex. I was a bit bummed, but I realized we only had about an hour and a half left here, and I wanted to do as many things as I could. Alex caught on quickly.

"Oh, uh-" He scratches his shag of black curls and I see a bush creep from his tan skin. "I- okay. Good luck?"

I grin. "You too."

I turn and thank the person in charge of my station with a nod. Before I move on to making a fire, however, I feel someone grab my arm.

"Hey."

It's Alex. I turn around and face him. He's still a little pink from his cheeks.

"Yeah?"

"I…nevermind."

"Do you really like me?" I burt out. I curse myself as I freeze in my tracks. Alex turns red.

"Uh - yeah. I mean…you're a very pretty person- I mean, a very nice person- I mean, you are really pretty, but you're nice too- not that you're not nice-"

I chuckle a bit at his answer. He breathes in deeply, then regains his thought. "Yes, Lillianne. I do like you." He pauses, trying to consider his next statement. "….Allies?"

I'm a bit taken aback. Is he strategizing with me? He's aware I'm a Career….but should something go wrong….maybe Alex would be beneficial to me.

And besides. I really did like him.

To answer his question, I grab his hand and squeeze it. "You can call me Lilly."

I walk away quickly, trying not to catch his eye, but when I look back at him in curiosity, he's smiling in my direction while Fern is already by his side, whispering harshly at his side. He shrugs her off.

And when I look away, I see Demetrius staring at Alex with a look that could kill.

* * *

><p><em>Review? C:<em>


	22. Painful Memories and Chocolate Mustaches

Dinner was like an interrogation. At least, it was for Demetrius.

As soon as we had finished the first course and all hellos were in order, Gloss and Jaques began to drill Demetrius. What he did, how he did it, who stood out, and what stations he chose. Of course, Demetrius answers with gusto, talking himself up. He hit the range and practiced the sword majority of the day. I looked up at Cashmere sneakily, and she gave me a wink. I guessed we'd talk about this later.

"So, my ice princess," Cinna says after a quiet while from me, "How did you do?"

"Okay."

Cinna sighs. I don't look up.

"Lilly wasn't there the whole time," Demetrius says from his full mouth, interjecting before I can stop my conversation. Cornelia looks up, surprised.

"What do you mean?"

Demetrius doesn't answer for me. I sigh.

"My grandfather wished to speak to me."

The ladies gasp and a hush falls over the room. I pick at my chicken, not looking up.

"Are you in trouble or something?"

I see Cashmere, here face really concerned. I shake my head.

"No. I'd rather not talk about it. It was a personal matter."

"But Lillianne-"

"As your mentor, I expect-"

"Did you do something regretful that you're not telling us-"

I slam my fork and knife down on the table, silencing the room. "No! I said nothing to that man! Now will you leave me alone!"

Everyone stares at me, eyes wide. I see was was standing from my seat. Demetrius sighs but continues to eat.

I pull down my jean romper and wipe my mouth with a napkin. "Excuse me. I believe I'm done."

Without another word, I push in the chair and swiftly walk to the elevator, subconsciously going up to the roof that Cashmere had shown me yesterday. And I stay there. First ten minutes. Then twenty.

I stay there until three hours have passed.

* * *

><p>I'm not really sure why I stayed up there. I thought of many things. Home. Life before District One. Demetrius. Alex. The Hunger Games. The more I thought, the more I grew fearful and the more I didn't want to be here. It was sad because I still hadn't grasped the fact that I will kill to survive.<p>

And that I was probably going to die as well.

It got dark. Cashmere was the first to look for me after this long period of time.

She stands before me, wearing a sweater over her 'fabulous' black pant-suit. She holds out a blue hoodie as a peace offering. I stand and take it generously.

"Let's walk." She says, gesturing over her shoulder. I nod, putting the jacket on and hood up.

We walk for a few moments around the small garden. I shiver, remembering this morning. Cashmere is the first to speak, and I'm grateful.

"So, I'm guessing your day wasn't great."

I smiled. I loved the way Cashmere was…she was so youthful. She understood us. In a way.

"It wasn't the best."

"Can I hear about it?"

I cross my arms and let out a breath. "President Snow basically told me there was no way out of this."

Pleased with my answer, I looked over at Cashmere, nodding in understandment. "You know, even if there was a way out of this, he still wouldn't help you."

I nod. "I know."

We're quiet for a while, and we reach the balcony from last night. We see the night sky go from light to dark, as the sun has already set. It's twilight.

"So did you do what I asked?"

I nodded.

"Did the Careers add you?"

I nodded again.

"And did you talk to Alexander?"

I nodded, then caught myself. I turn to Cashmere, incredulous, only to see her smug smile.

"I mean- yeah, I had to, I was paired up with him at the edible plants station." I answer as nonchalantly as possible. She snorts.

"Puh-lease. I can see it in your eyes!" She shrieks. Then her voice softens. "I think he likes you too."

"I don't like him!" I defend. She laughs.

"Okay, okay. Then why were Everdeen and Mellark eyeing you like crazy at the Parade?"

I cock my head to the side. "What?"

"They kept watching you like a piece of meat they wanted to buy….and then the awkward stand off? Weird."

She shivers comically and I chuckle.

"It wouldn't work." Cashmere suddenly says.

"Huh?"

"You can't fall in love - or like, whatever - in these Games." She looks down. "I learned that the hard way."

I shoot her a confused look. She looks out at the Capitol, eyes shiny.

"He was my best friend. At least, he was my ally. Even if we were in the Career group, he had my back no matter what. Until they wanted to get rid of him."

She freezes, like if she's watching something in her mind. She winces.

"Rush beheaded him with an axe."

I hear the swish of the axe in my head. I think Cashmere did too, because she winces even more. She presses her lips together. I then wonder who Rush is.

"I couldn't save him….it was me or him."

She didn't cry, but her voice broke. She turned to look at me.

"Do you really think I did right? I had nothing to go back to besides my mom. But he had brothers, a sister on the way, and his two parents. Did I really win anything?"

I stared at her, a little taken aback by the sudden outburst of emotion from my mentor. She turned back out to the city.

"Be careful."

I nodded. I tried to change the subject.

"What do I do tomorrow?"

"The gamemakers will watch you beginning tomorrow. Don't be nervous. They hardly pay attention. However, move up a bit. Move to agility and stick to drills. Demetrius told us you're a fast runner."

I blush at the comment.

"That's a good thing," Cashmere goes on, "So what we need to do is try to make everyone believe that is your only strength. Which isn't, of course. Try to be friendlier with the Careers. And keep your eyes open."

I nod. She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So, what do you say we get some sleep?"

She begins to walk away, but I don't follow. Confused, she turns to me. I look back at her.

"I think I'll be here a little while longer."

Shrugging, she struts off. She shouts from over her shoulder, "Suit yourself!"

I dig my hands into my hoodie pocket, feeling the warmth in my fingers, and longing for the blankets at home that covered me from the fear of the outside world.

* * *

><p>It's been a good half hour when I hear shuffling steps coming towards me. I bring my head up from my knees, a little surprised.<p>

I had opted for a seat over a banister, almost like a small little cave. I leaned against it's cool grey marble.

"I thought you'd be thirsty."

I looked up and saw Demetrius standing a few feet away, a blanket over him and wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt. He held two mugs. His hair was a mess…more than usual.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now." I said. He shrugged.

"I was going to wait for you, but you took too long."

I smiled at his sarcasm and move my body to face the city now, patting the space beside me. He obliges, sitting criss-crossed beside me. He hands me a mug.

"How did you find this place?" He asked.

"Not very hard," I respond, "I just looked around."

He nods. Suddenly, a cold breeze hits us and I shudder, remembering the feeling of the ice on my back. I want to shake even more when I feel Demetrius put his blanket around me absently, so that we both share it. I don't say anything.

"So what happened that you had a meltdown? We haven't even gotten to the games."

I tense a bit. He notices, because he sighs.

"Forget I asked," He grumbles. I laugh, then look down at the mug.

"You brought me hot chocolate?"

He looks over at my mug and then grins. "Cool. I don't really know what I got you, they just handed it to me and I asked them for another."

I raise an eyebrow in annoyance at his fail at being nice. He smells it.

"So…hot chocolate?"

"Yeah." I answer, a little out of it. He brings it up to his eyes.

"You…do you just drink it?"

My mouth drops open. "You're kidding, right?"

He stares at the mug, sniffing it again. I scoff.

"You-_you've never tasted hot chocolate_?"

I concur my voice is a little to hysterical for my remark, and I clear my throat. He shrugs.

"I mean…I've _seen_ it, but - okay, no. I haven't. Sorry."

At first I don't say anything. All I think to myself is,_ is he serious? Hot chocolate is like, the basis of winter. _But then I wonder if it's really his fault he hasn't really tasted hot chocolate ever. I bring mine up to my face, and blow the steam off.

"Yes, you drink it." I respond, laughing a bit. I put it to my lips. "But be careful. As the name suggests, this chocolate is hot."

He does as I do, and he tries to chug it down. I sip it, feeling the warmth on my lips and mouth, but then I turn to see Demetrius spitting it out.

"What are you doing?" I shout, seeing him cough.

"It - was - hot!" He breathed like a dog.

I stared at him for a few moments, watching him regulate his tongue temperature and the funny faces that came with that. Then I burst out laughing.

He began to laugh too, and then we were both having a laugh attack. We were both breathless by the time it ended. We sipped some more, and then looked up at each other.

I grinned, pointing at his face. "You…you have a little-"

He looks down at the direction of my finger. "What? What do I have?"

I laugh a bit. "You have a hot chocolate mustache."

He looks down and clearly doesn't see anything, but licks his upper lip anyway. "I do not. But you do."

I look down at myself. My tongue reaches for my upper lip and I taste the chocolate foam. I swipe my tongue to wipe myself. "Is it gone?"

I notice Demetrius is watching me intently. He doesn't answer, but he's staring at me keenly. I get self conscious, and I clear my throat.

"Did I get it? Is it g-"

I can't finish my sentence because Demetrius has just leaned over and placed his lips on my own. I stare at him as he kisses me until I finally close my eyes, still unsure of what's happening. He pushes me back a bit as he deepens the kiss a little bit more. The kiss is gentle, sweet, and short, however, because as soon as he commenced it, it ended. He pulled away slowly, licking his lips suddenly.

"I got it." He said lamely. I nodded slowly. We didn't meet eachother's gaze.

"You taste like chocolate." I said stupidly. I saw a blush creep at his cheeks.

"You taste like it too."

Suddenly, this overwhelms me. The kiss, the Games, my grandfather, Cashmere's vague but detailed story-

I run away, as fast as I can, leaving the space beside Demetrius empty and the mug of hot chocolate half full. And I don't look back.

* * *

><p><em>Review! Go! Go! Go!<em>


	23. Stupid Knots

Hey guys so...thanks for the reviews! But you must remember, without them, there would be no chapters.

Keep them coming and enjoy the story!

* * *

><p>All us Career tributes were standing in a circle, watching each other with narrowed eyes. Our trainer went off to bring us something. I shook a bit when I felt the tall District 11's girl staring down at me next to me.<p>

"So Lillianne," Cybele says to break the silence, crossing her arms, "We haven't seen you fight. You do realize tomorrow we show the gamemakers what we an do, right?"

I look up at her from across. She smiles smugly. I shrug.

"I have my talent. Don't you worry about that." I reply, leaning back a bit. Everyone turns to look at me. I gulp silently.

"Do you, now?" The girl from Eleven says, a tone of suspicion in her voice. I nod.

"Well, you wouldn't mind training with us in hand-to-hand, do you?" Garett asks a bit sarcastically. I tense a bit, and I see Demetrius wince beside me.

* * *

><p><em>"Wait! Lillianne!" <em>

_ Demetrius pushes past me without another glance. I stare at the back of his head with a glare. I turn back and fix my training shirt down to see Cashmere grabbing me away from the elevator. _

_ "Demetrius! You will wait for Lillianne!" _

_ I hear a sigh. I don't turn back at him. She pulls me to the corridor before the elevator hall and she turns to me. _

_ "You need to fight today." _

_ My eyes widen. "What? I can't fight, you know I can't-"_

_ "You will. It's an order. The Careers will want to see what you can do. Lead them on. You can't afford to lose their alliance over secrecy." _

_ I stare at her in fear. "But-"_

_ "No buts. I don't know how you fight, but as long as you show them something, satisfy them." _

_ I'm at a loss for words. She sighs and fixes my pink ribbon around my bun and moves my bangs out of the way. _

_ "Lillianne. You need to trust me." _

_ "….Just empty hand?" _

_ She grins. "Yes. No knives. Not 'till tomorrow at your presentation. Today, fight with the Careers at least for a while." _

_ I nod, clenching my teeth. She rubs my shoulders nervously. _

_ "Okay. Go with Demetrius." _

_ She pushes me away and I stagger back, then jog to the elevator to meet Demetrius's cold and unforgiving stare._

* * *

><p>"Sure. I'll train with you guys." I say cooly. The stronger team members - Two and Eleven - raise an eyebrow in surprise at my answer. I wink and stand straight. Our trainer returns with some silver wristbands and hands one to each of our group, eight kids. Dezzy, the girl from four, asks the question before I can.<p>

"What are these for?"

The trainer seems excited at the question. As he's wrapping the final one on me, he explains. "These are 'Holos'. "

"What are Holos?" Demetrius asks.

"Holos," The trainer says. "Are a new invention by Capitol technicians. They are a hologram that is an almost exact replica of a living, breathing person. They can be touched, they can be seen, they can be heard, and they can even be smelled. For instance-"

He presses a button on my own Holo bracelet and steps back. In a few seconds, a mirror image of myself stands before me. I gasp. It stares back at me, only her eyes are silver.

"Now, hit her."

"You want me to hit myself?" I question a little too hysterically. He chuckles.

"If you want another setting, then-" He presses another button and I disappear from view. My mirror image is replaced by the person I least wanted to see this morning.

A likeness of Demetrius is glaring at me in the center of the circle, arms crossed.

"That….that's me."

I turn to Demetrius - the real one - staring at the Holo image before him. The trainer gestures at me.

"Go on ahead, One. He'll fight back, I assure you."

I step cautiously to the center of the circle and Holo Demetrius puts his hands up. I put mine up shakily.

"C'mon, Princess. Show us your 'talent'." Cybele calls out icily. I narrow my eyes at the Holo Demetrius and remember this morning.

* * *

><p><em>"Cornelia left us a message. She said she and our mentors have gone to talk to some sponsors. Cornelia's specifically going to keep track." Demetrius drilled as I sat down at the empty table. I nod. <em>

_ "Okay." _

_ I reached for a cinnamon role and took a bite out of it, looking down at the empty plate below. Chewing quietly, I don't look up at him as he messes with his steak and eggs. Silence ensues. Finally I get the courage. _

_ "Demetrius, about last night-"_

_ "Nothing happened last night." He said firmly. I look up, eyes wide. _

_ "But-" _

_ "Nothing. Happened." He repeated. I threw down his fork. _

_ "Will you just-"_

_ "Look, Lill-"_

_ "Listen to me!" I shouted at him, standing up. He looks up at me, sighing. My fists are clenched. _

_ "I'm sorry, okay? I had no right to kiss you, or for you to kiss me, or whatever! I want to apologize!" _

_ He stares at me, his face unchanging. "I kissed you. I take it back. I'm sorry I caused so much turmoil in your conscious."_

_ "Demetrius-" _

_ "No, Lillianne. We're done talking about this. Besides. It's time for training." _

_ He gets up and tosses down his napkin, walking away._

* * *

><p>I swing at the hollow, missing barely. The hole is about to punch me back when I crouch down. I kick it in the stomach and it stumbles back. I get back up, and the Holo stops.<p>

The trainer claps. "Very nice! Who wants to go next?"

Everyone's hands shoot up except for mine. Cybele catches on to this.

"What's wrong, One? Tired?"

I blow the bangs out of my face and smile at her. "Nah. I think I wanna go tie some knots." I look over at the trainer and wave. "Thanks, sir!"

I walk off, feeling the stare from Cybele behind me. I find myself at the knot station at the far end of the warehouse. _Good_, I think to myself, _maybe now I can think._

The trainer comes to teach me a few basic knots and snares, and I do alright. I can see he is a little frustrated when I only do a bit above satisfactory, then leaves me so he can help a younger kid from District seven. I look down at the ropes in my hands, and try to fix the knots. I make a bigger mess.

I have a fit and just give up, messing the knots up more and throwing them down. I brought my knees to my face and put my head down.

"Don't beat yourself up for it. They're just knots, geez."

I look up from my spot and see Alex sitting beside me. He's sitting in the same position I am, his face close to mine. I smile a bit.

"It's not the knots," I grumble, putting my head back down. He nudges me with his headful of curls.

"Then what?"

I stiffen. "I- I can't tell you."

He shrugs. "It's okay. You don't have to. Besides, I need to show you how to tie that knot right."

I sit cross-legged, looking at the tangled mess of rope before me. I give him a questionable look. He chuckles and sits in front of me cross-legged as well. He begins to unwrap it.

"It's not that hard," He says, watching the rope, "You just have to remember where you started."

I nod, observing as he undid the disorder of the ropes. When it was just two strings again, he looks up at me.

"Okay. Ready?"

I sigh, then nod slowly. Then surprisingly, he reaches for my hands.

At his touch, I feel a tremble in spine. He blushes a bit, I can catch it, but he ignores it and grabs my hands. "Alright, now get the ropes and I'll guide you through."

I do as he says, but I'm not looking at the ropes. I'm staring at him.

"Do the basic knot," He says, maneuvering my hands as such. His fingers intertwine with mine as he gets a little more complicated in directions. Finally, the knot looks like the trainer's, and I smile in triumph.

"Yes! We did it!" I say. We look up at each other, grinning, but then our eyes widen. Our hands are clasped together, fingers interlaced with each other. We stay together like this as we stare at each other, until I break the bond, sliding my hands away from his own. He scratches his head, trying to hide the blush in his cheeks.

"I-"

"No, its ok-"

We laugh a bit at the awkwardness.

"Is everything alright, Lillianne?"

Both Alex and I look up to see my District partner standing before us, arms crossed. We stand up quickly, Alex giving me his hand to help me up.

"Uh, yeah. Everything…" I look over to Alex, grinning, "Everything's fine."

Demetrius and Alex stare off at each other, and it's me that has to break the tense silence. "Demetrius- is everything okay? What happened?"

"Nothing, I just came to find you. I needed to talk to you." He says, still not breaking his glance with Alex. Alex nears my face, bending down to meet my eyes.

"I think your _friend_ is missing you a bit." Alex sarcastically, flicking the stray hair in my face. I laugh a bit at the gesture. Demetrius grabs my wrist and pulls me towards him.

"Well if you don't mind, Twelve," He firmly replies, and I land beside him harshly, "Lillianne and I are going to get lunch together."

"But-"

He cuts me off, meeting my eyes with a hard look. "I _really_ need to talk to you."

I sigh. "Alright."

He's about to pull me with him when I free myself from his grasp and move towards Alex quickly.

"Hey, thanks for helping me figure out the stupid knots." I say rushed. He smiles.

"It's nothing. Anytime."

"No really," I continue, "Thank you."

Then I reach over and give him a quick peck on the cheek. Not quick enough, it seems for Demetrius, because he pulls me away quickly.

But no matter how hard Demetrius pushes me to look away, I watch Alex as he puts his hand to his cheek in a daze, watching his blush creep to his full face.

* * *

><p><em>The "Holos" are not the "Holos" in Mockingjay, but they are a key piece to the story. Review!<em>


	24. It's Him, Isn't it?

I set down the tray lightly as Demetrius slides in in front of me. Watching him closely, I sit.

"What's wrong? Are you going to kiss me again and then act like it never happened?"

He seems stunned at my bluntness, but clears his throat as he opens a water bottle. I don't touch my tray, waiting for him to answer me.

"What's going on with you and 12?"

I scoff. "This is what you're asking me?'

He doesn't give up. "Are you allies? May I remind you you're a career?"

"We're not allies." I confirm.

"Then what?"

When he asks me the last question, I see Alex behind him in the far end of the room, talking to his District partner Fern. He looks over at my direction and smiles sheepishly.

"Lillianne."

I snap back to Demetrius, his brown eyes staring deep at me. I sigh.

"Nothing. That's what. Can't I make a friend before I die?" I answer sarcastically, picking up my fork. He crosses his arms across his chest.

"Friends are fine, but there's a whole difference between friends and admirers."

I almost drop my fork. He senses my shock and continues.

"I overheard him talking with his mentor this morning. You're just a strategy." He responds icily. I clench my teeth together.

"I don't even- what do you care, Demetrius? He's my friend, and I won't ever see him again after the Games. What does it matter to you?" I whisper furiously.

"It matters to me because we're a team!" He says harshly, a loud whisper.

"We are not a team!" I reply just as fiercely. He sighs exasperatingly.

"I thought we were on the same page."

"We are," I reply quickly. "We're District partners. We're Careers. We can be friends. But I will not 'love' you."

"Well here's a reality check, Princess," He responds icily, his voice dropping volume, "They only want you because of your name and because of me. They think you and I are something. And if we're not, you're useless to them."

I narrow my eyes. "I didn't want to be a Career anyway."

He scoffs. "But you know it'll keep you alive. That's why you're putting up with this."

I don't answer. I pick at the mashed potatoes on my plate. His voice softens.

"Please, Lillianne. I'm sorry about this morning. And if I have to be sorry about last night, fine."

I look up quickly. He continues. "But I'm not. Because I- I liked it. And I know you did too."

Now I really do drop my fork, His statement throws me off guard, and I look at him with wide eyes. "What-"

"What I said, Lillianne. I know we've had our differences. I know I haven't been very nice to you in the past. But Lillianne…people change. And…I think you're changing me."

I'm at a loss for words. The words coming out of his mouth are too not-Demetrius-like, and I can't help but feel apprehensive about his 'confession'. He sighs again.

"Look, I know you won't believe me, but believe this: that kiss last night was the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

Again, I don't know what to answer. I put my hands on my lap.

"If you're making a strategy, don't lead me on." I reply as firmly as I can. Even so, my voice shakes.

"Lilly, if I were strategizing, I wouldn't be pouring my heart out to at a lunch table."

He uses my nickname. No one is allowed to call me that. But I feel a tingle in my spine when he says it. Only one other person has that effect- and he's two tables down, trying to steal glances at me from under his curly hair.

"It's Twelve, isn't it?"

I look back at Demetrius. "I-"

"You like him. I should've known."

He sounds hurt. He's about to pick up his tray when I grab his hand. I don't even realize it until I feel his skin under my hand. "Wait."

He does.

I try to muster up a good reply. "Demetrius…I…Let's not lie to each other."

He stiffens. I continue. "I don't trust you. And I'll go along with this charade of yours. But I'll answer you're question before we do anything. It's the least I can do."

His brown eyes are staring deep into my soul, and I take a deep breath.

"I think it is him, Demetrius. And I'm not sorry for that either."

He narrows his eyes, knowing exactly what I mean by those words. And I take one look at the table where Twelve is sitting before I throw away my tray and gaze and the knives from the climbing station until the end of the day has come.

* * *

><p><em>Short, I know, but I had to ! Review, please!<em>


	25. Breathless

I'm genuinely terrified. I'm literally shaking in my cold, silver seat.

We were in a long hallway-like waiting room, all twenty-four of us. All of us were waiting for the same thing. All of us were expecting the same thing.

It was the morning of the presentations to the Gamemakers.

* * *

><p>I walked to breakfast that morning stiff as a board. I was already changed into my training clothes, fresh with the scent of clean. My hair was done already. The bow around my bun was neatly wrapped in place.<p>

Almost falling into my seat, I watched Cashmere slide into the seat before me wearing skintight black jeans and an equally tight grey shirt. It almost reminded me of my training outfit. She poured herself a glass of juice.

"So today's the day, kiddo."

I gulped. I stared at the empty plate before me, not answering.

Cashmere looked up at me as she finished pouring the juice and set it down. She reached for a muffin as well and took a bite.

"Don't be nervous. Just show them the knives. That's all they need."

I nod quickly. She's still not convinced, because she sighs heavily and puts down the bitten muffin.

"Look Lillianne, the Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee- don't you like, know him or something?"

My eyebrows furrow at the name. Heavensbee….Heavensbee….

"I…I knew his daughter. I think. He has a daughter right?"

Cashmere thinks for a while, then snaps, grinning. "Yeah! He does! Or… well he _did_."

I cock my head to the side. "Did?"

"Well, it was in the tabloids a few years ago that the quote 'gamemaker hopeful's' daughter died in a car accident with his wife as well."

My breathing hitches. "That's awful."

Cashmere shrugs. "I guess. Car accidents are daily here in the Capitol. People move on. I think her name was Rajima."

_Rajima_… the name is vaguely familiar. I remember shouting the name in my grandfather's garden, and a dark little girl coming at me and covering my eyes from behind.

"Hm…"

"So, are you ready?" Cashmere inquires, wiping her mouth. I see her muffin is gone and the juice is almost gone as well. I stand shakily.

"I think so."

We walk together to the elevator, and then I stop before the door opens.

"Hey- and Demetrius?"

Cashmere snickers. "He's late. Or early. I don't know, Gloss said he'll take care of things with him. Anyway, we have to go. Remember, you're first, girly."

* * *

><p>I gulped again. I'm first.<p>

As if to answer back to my statement, a computerized voice sounds above the entire room.

"Lillianne Snow. District One."

My teeth clench together. I look back to the door I came from, subconsciously wanting to run, but am met by the stares of twenty-three other sets of eyes. Demetrius pushes me forward and out of my seat, much like the Reaping, and I am forced to stand. I straighten my shirt and face forward to see the sliding door open.

I turn back quickly for one last look at someone who will give me their sympathy, and am met with District 12's male.

He gives me the weakest smile ever, weaker than a noodle.

The heels of my boots click on the stainless floor, and the lights come on brighter. I hear the sliding door close behind me.

Up above like a balcony in the far end of the room are a group of people all sitting in comfortable chairs and sofas, chatting and eating breakfast. They seem to be in a very lively conversation when I enter because a very large and surly man is leaning on the back of a couch to two older people.

"And then Jeanette said, barista? I thought those were female dancers atop bars!"

The crowd erupts into laughter, and the large man is in tears of how funny he thought his joke was.

I get to the center and spot the weapons table off center to my right. It reminds me of the setup back in preschool, when I picked up my first knife.

Sure enough, it doesn't take long for my eyes to scan the table and find the knives. Not just _a_ knife- _knives_. I smiled a bit, then lost the smile when I realized I hadn't trained in a long time.

I shook off the feeling, because I felt the silence now.

I looked up to see the Game Makers watching me. I see them watching in anticipation, and I can already tell they've been waiting for this since my Reaping.

Taking a deep breath, I take a step forward.

"Lillianne Snow. District One."

I'm guessing it's Plutarch Heavensbee who gestures me to begin.

I nod to myself and turn to the table. Before I reach for a knife, I see a familiar silver band.

It's a Holo band.

Slapping it on absently, I try to really think through what I'm going to do, but I can't reel in my mind. I change the settings for the Holo and before me is a female around the same height as me. She's in ready stance.

"Come at me." I breathe, ordering her. She nods and runs.

I grab the first knife I can feel behind me and I throw it at her. It lands in her stomach and she doubles over.

I curse in my head. I didn't hit the target I had set- her chest. She gets up and continues to come at me, faster now, and I grab two more knives from the back and twirl them around my fingers. I make an 'X' formation when she's practically on me, and then I stick in the knives to her lower stomach.

She falls and disappears.

I look up at the Game Makers. They're nodding in approval, I believe. A lot of them seem intrigued.

But I have yet to be dismissed.

They want more.

"Okay…" I whisper. I look around to see a fake forest of four trees, three dummies, and a range all spread around the room. I start to sprint at the trees, the two knives I had in my hands sticking them into my boot straps.

I latched onto the tree, and I knew I was going to climb it easily.

Then I fell on my back, epically failing.

I hear the soft chuckle of the Game Makers behind me.

"Alright, Di-"

I cut him off as I reclimb the tree, trying to climb it as fast as I can. When I reach a long branch, I swing myself onto it and hold on with my hands, going down to it's edge like a monkey bar. When I see the dummies in range, I flip myself over and - thankfully - I land on the top side firmly. I slip out the knives from my boots and shoot them to the dummies below. The first hits the closest dummy in the corner of it's head. The second hit's a dummy farther back in the stomach.

I curse again. My aim was off.

However, they don't seem to think that. I climb back down the fake tree and walk to the center, breathing a bit heavily. No one says anything. Finally, Plutarch Heavensbee takes a sip of a fruity concoction and waves his hand.

"You are dismissed, District One's Lillianne Snow."

* * *

><p>I'm bombarded by Cashmere as I enter my floor and exit the elevator.<p>

"How did you do? Did they like you? Were you awesome? Did you miss? Did you mess up? I think you bested. Unless you messed up. Did you? Tell me!"

My eyes widened as the elevator doors shut behind me. I blinked. Cashmere smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, it's just- gah! I wanna know!"

She pulls me to the living room and immediately sets me down on the comfy couch.

"So…did you miss?"

"I…yes and no? I don't-"

"Okay, next question. Were they smiling?"

"I guess."

"Good. They were paying attention. That's always good."

I nod. I grip the couch from under me, not knowing what to say.

"Okay, and the weapons, did you-" Cashmere stopped and she saw me hyperventilating. "Uh…do you maybe want to talk about this after the Scores?"

I nod meekly, feeling out of breath.

However, I can't breathe even after Demetrius arrives and Gloss bombards him less than I was. I can't breathe when we wait for hours and Cinna and Jacques join us for supper. And I certainly can't breathe when Ceasar Flickerman is on screen and says my name on screen as we all sat in the living room to watch the Scores after supper.

"To get the ball rolling we have our most exciting tribute, District One's Lillianne Snow. She has obtained the score of…-"

He pauses, then does a double take. I've seen that double take. That double take was done when I was reaped. Those double takes are usually associated with bad news in my case. Nonetheless, I have small glimmer of hope. Maybe my score was good. Higher than the standard. All I wanted was a seven. Not to amazing, not too mediocre. Just…a seven.

"Please." I whisper, barely audible.

Ceasar coughs. "Lillianne Snow has obtained the score of three."

The whole room is in an uproar. "THREE?"

"Never, in my life, have I seen a Career tribute grab a three!" Cashmere shouted angrily, standing up.

"Lillianne, what did you do?" Gloss asks, grabbing my wrist.

"Oh dear, this will not look good for sponsors," Cornelia pants, putting her face in her hands.

It's Demetrius who notices my state. He shakes my arm. "Lillianne? Lillianne? Is she breathing! I don't think she is!"

And neither do I. In my head, thoughts are spinning. Three? A three! That's probably the lowest score in the history of District One. In the history of Career tributes. In the history of…well ever! How will this affect my sponsors? My alliances? …My odds!

I fall back on the couch and collapse, fading to black.

* * *

><p>Review, please?<p> 


	26. Proving

"She's come to."

My eyes flutter open and my vision clears, seeing my mentor and her brother hovering over me. Cornelia in front, moving a perfume bottle side to side under my nose. I sneeze.

"She's fine!" They all say in relief, moving away from me. I try to sit up, and I notice the television screen is gone.

"What-"

"You fainted," Gloss explains, pouring himself some wine from the coffee table before the couch, "After…your score."

"I- I missed the others?" I asked stupidly. Cashmere answers with edge in her voice.

"I wrote them all down. So you can look over them. You're going to need to."

She slides a notepad over to me with twenty-four names and numbers in red ink. She walks away to the kitchenette, crossing her arms.

Everyone is quiet. Gloss helps me stand up, smoothing out my hair that has fallen from it's bun to a ponytail. Cornelia looks like she wants to cry when she sees me.

After a long while of uncomfortable silence, we hear a slam. We turn to Cashmere who is angrier beyond sarcasm. She hit the counter with her hand full force, and she didn't wince.

"Damn it, Lillianne! What the hell did you do!"

I stare at her, at a loss for words. "I- I did what you told me to do!" I answer brokenly, stuttering. Gloss sighs and walks away to his room, wine bottle in hand. Cashmere is not satisfied with my answer.

"You sure as _hell_ did not do what I told you! Snow, you got a f-"

"Language!" Cornela shouts indignantly over Cashmere. The previous District One victor gives the escort a glare that could kill her on the spot. Cornelia stares back, but her lip trembles.

"Snow, you got a _three_. _A DAMN THREE_!" She punches a box of bread nearby, leaving a hole. Cornelia slaps her forehead.

"That's not coming out of _my_ paycheck," She grumbles. Cashmere had had it.

"Shut the hell up, Cornelia!"

Both my escort and I freeze in our tracks eyes wide. It was not a good idea to get a victor angry.

"A three? No one, and I mean_ no one_, from my District has ever gotten a three. Hell, no one has ever gotten under a seven! But you- A FREAKING THREE!"

She's nearing me dangerously. I start to say incoherent things to save myself.

"Maybe, maybe it's because I'm Snow's granddaughter, maybe they wanted it to be fair- I can still show them what I have in the arena, I mean, no one-"

"Snow, there's no time!" She shouts, waving her hands up. "Tomorrow is individual training and interviews. Then you're on your own in the arena!"

"I- I -"

"Cashmere, Enobaria-"

"Shut up, Cornelia! Snow?"

"I- I don't know what-"

"Cashmere-"

"Cornelia, no one wants to hear it!"

"Cashmere! It's Enobaria. Her kids want Lillianne to go up now."

I turn to Cornelia on the phone, holding it to her ear. Then I turn around, looking at my surroundings, finally noticing we're missing a tribute.

"Where's Demetrius?" I ask quietly. Cashmere glares at me.

"He's trying to keep you alive." She spits at me. "Go. The roof. They're all waiting for you."

I gulp. "All?"

"Why yes. Your Career group. Want me to tell you their scores?" Her voice is high in anger. She drills them to me as if she's memorized them.

"Cybele, Nine. Garrett, Ten. Marcel, Seven. Dezidora, Seven."

Nothing lower than a seven. And I had gotten a three? I was starting to fear my meeting in a few minutes. Then I pause.

"And…and Demetrius?"

Cashmere scoffs, like she's laughing but insanely. She slaps something off the counter.

"Demetrius got an Eleven."

My eyes widened. I wavered a bit, but my feet are glued to the ground. That was not good.

"Go ahead, Lillianne." Cashmere says with fake sweetness. "Go talk to your friends. You just went from being the most interesting tribute to being the loser."

When she says 'friends', I gulp again. I turn on my heel towards the elevator and walk silently. I press the button for the roof, but the door does not close fast enough when I hear Cashmere curse loudly and break a glass object.

* * *

><p>The elevator slides open silently, and I feel the cool air of outside. I look down and thank the heavens I was wearing a long sleeve shirt. A green, long sleeve shirt and slim khakis keep me warm as I walk forward hesitantly. I'm not sure who'll be here. I'm not even sure if they're here yet. The latter is answered when I hear Cybele shouting.<p>

"To hell with that!" She shouts angrily. I stop in my tracks. It seems this 'meeting' has started without me.

I can barely see Cybele in the darkness, and what with me being behind a bush of some sorts. I can see Garrett. I can also see Demetrius. And by the looks of it, Demetrius and Cybele are in the middle of a heated discussion. Garrett is leaning casually against the small veranda, shaking his head. Cybele goes on.

"That girl is going to get us killed! Well, no, but- but she's going to set us back. We're stronger. Faster. Just plain _better_!" She pushes Demetrius unnecessarily. "Why do we need a weakling like her?"

"Think about it," Demetrius shrieks, "She's President Snow's _granddaughter_. Imagine the _gifts_, the _sponsors_- the _feast_! May I remind you how_ filthy rich _her grandfather is! He'll probably send her some amazing and expensive gift that will blow Finnick Odair's trident out of the water!"

"And what will she do with that gift! Surely she'll try to win it for her grandpapa." She sarcastically spits. Demetrius sighs.

"We'll kill her anyway. We can just take her stuff."

I tense up everywhere. My body feels like it weighs tons, but I can fall back any second. I was that disposable?

"I thought you liked her, One." Garrett speaks up.

I get a knot in my chest. But before Demetrius can answer, I make my way to the veranda. They can see me now and they can begin this meeting.

"Well, well, well," Cybele remarks in a high voice and pushes Demetrius out of the way, "If it isn't our three-scoring ally, Lillianne."

I don't answer. I see Cybele go to Garrett and lean against the veranda like him. She crosses her arms.

"So, anything to say for yourself?" She says.

Again, I have nothing to say. Cybele scoffs.

"Wow…"

"Cybele," Demetrius says as a warning. She puts up her hands in defense.

"No, no," She replies, "I just wanna know how Princess here is holding up knowing she got the lowest score in the bunch."

My eyes flit up to the girl with black hair covering her forehead. Instead of it being in it's strict ponytail, the black strands went down her back and shoulders, up to her chest. She wore a tight black shirt made of stretchy material and slim jeans. This makes her look a little intimidating, at least to me. I clench my teeth.

"Since when are scores judgment on tributes?" I say accusingly. "What about Johanna Mason from Seven? What if I wanted to get that three? What if I meant to do it, huh?"

I'm a little surprised at my audacity, but I realize what I've said means I can't take it back. I play along with my new excuse. Cybele's eyes get wider.

"So you're hiding things?" She puts her arms beside her, holding her body up. "I thought allies had to build some sort of trust."

"Oh, Cybele," I chuckle, again a surprise, "We're Careers. Since when do we have trust? Once we all get to the final days, its every tribute for himself."

Garrett laughs breathily. "She's right."

Cybele shoots him a dirty look. Garrett shrugs. Demetrius clears his throat.

"So you see? Lillianne is a key player to the games. She's got…stuff up her sleeve."

He puts his arm around me and I almost shake him off, but I remember our facade- we 'like' each other or whatever. I nod encouragingly.

Cybele doesn't look like she's buying it, but she sighs. "Well, Lilly, I can't wait to see what _surprises_ you have in store for us."

She gets up and slaps Garrett and he laughs at the action, following her like a lost puppy. They leave us swiftly. I'm about to leave too when Demetrius grabs my shoulder.

"Wait, Lillianne-"

"I have scores to go over," I say quickly, turning away. He doesn't leave me alone.

"No, look, Lillianne, I want to talk-"

"I. Have. Scores." I reply, yanking away from him. "Besides, Cashmere is furious with me. I have to make peace my mentor if I want to train tomorrow-"

"Lilly!" He pulls me harshly and makes me face him. I'm so close to him I can hear his jagged breathing. Then I know what he's going to do.

"No. Don't."

I push myself away from him before he can even pull me in. His eyes soften in confusion. I rub my elbow.

"Just…please." I plead quietly, "I can't."

He looks down and nods in understandment. I push some stray hair out of his forehead and his brown eyes meet mine in this simple gesture.

"Tomorrow are the interviews." I remark absently. I put my hand down to my side as he nods.

"We need to do well," He says. I chuckle.

"_I_ need to do well," I reply. pushing him playfully. He laughs as well.

"Well, you'll already look gorgeous," He says. Then he blushes and takes it back. "I mean, Cinna's going to make something awesome, I know it."

I give him a grateful smile. "Well, I really do have to check the scores and talk to Cashmere."

He sighs but lets me go. But before I do-

"Wait."

I turn back and he grabs my wrist. He leans over and I freeze as I feel his lips on my cheek. Gently, he pulls away and looks down.

"Good luck tomorrow." He mumbles.

I nod absently. "You too."

I walk away to the elevator, and I look forward to tomorrow, the final day before we get shipped to our death.

So I had to make it count if I wanted to live.

* * *

><p>Review~<p> 


	27. Before the Bloodbath, Part One

This day will be divided into parts, being it is the last day before the official Hunger Games. Part One, read!

* * *

><p>I awoke from a nightmare that seemed to never end.<p>

Tonight, I wasn't dying. No.

Juniper Lee was.

I awoke from the nightmare, screaming. A short cry, I transitioned to breathing heavy after a second or two. I immediately brought my knees to my chest, burying my face into my hands.

"Dream," I wheezed, "Just a dream, just a dream."

I bonked my head back to the head board of my bed, sighing. Juniper's screams rang in my head, but diminished slowly after a few moments of breathing. My eyes fluttered open and I wiped my light sweat off my forehead quickly, sliding out of my bed.

I was soon dressed after a cold shower to completely wake me, and I was instructed by a very frustrated Cashmere to put on my training gear for a two-hour session with her. Then I would come back and shower, to practice and figure out my angle towards the interviews. Finally, I'd meet my prep team and Cinna down at beauty-base zero, where I'd prepare for the interviews. Adjusting the bottom of my training shirt, I squeezed my wet hair and heard it drip on the ground, reaching for the door. I was met by Cornelia, who look like she was about to knock on my door. My eyes widened a bit in confusion, and she adjusted her bright orange headpiece.

"Lillianne, Cashmere has told me that you have first session, and she's already down. She expects you to be down in exactly ten minutes."

I nod. "Alright, sure."

I started to move around her, going for the dining table to grab a cookie or something, when Cornelia cleared her throat.

"Also," She continued, "You have received something."

I raised an eyebrow as I bit a macadamia nut cookie. "Huh?"

She reached the coffee table and grabbed a bouquet of lilies wrapped in blue ribbon. On the ribbon was a tag card with a large '12' on it. I grabbed it gently, smelling it's sweet aroma. I looked at the card.

_ From our tributes and the victors, we wish you luck on the 76th annual Hunger Games._

I turned the card over to the very back and saw a post-script scrawled in black ink.

_ P.S. Look pretty for the interviews, Ice Girl. _

Smiling, I knew the postscript was most likely from Alex. I looked up at Cornelia.

"What is this for?"

She shrugged.

"No idea."

* * *

><p>Running. That's what I did a lot of for about two hours. Cashmere was in a better mood, but she wanted to emphasize my two strengths: Running and knife work. I obliged, doing everything she said. For the first hour, it was half an half, running drills and climbing, running and climbing, climbing, jumping off then running, and then hiding knives while running. I learned to conceal knives in many parts of my clothing, even in my pant pocket without cutting my skin like and idiot. The second hour was situational: in case I fall off a tree and I get ambushed, in case I'm cornered and have only one knife, in case I can't walk and have to climb and throw knives from up top. By the last five minutes, Cashmere was somewhat pleased and I was exhausted. I wondered if I would really live long enough to execute any of the exsercises she gave me, but shook off the thought in an attempt to be positive. Cashmere personally walked me back to our floor, pressing the number on the elevator's side to 13, the penthouse.<p>

It was awkwardly quiet, with me trying to control my breathing and Cashmere looking fabulous to death in a similar outfit to mine but with her hair waved down her back. She reminded me very much of me at the moment, only I could see the victory in her eyes as she waited for the elevator to stop. I sighed, scratching my head.

I didn't have that look in my eyes.

Suddenly, I'm pushed harshly onto the wall and I cry out, my arm feeling the cool metal. I turn to Cashmere checking her closed fist vainly.

"Uh-OW?" I say loudly, rubbing my arm. She wipes her knuckles.

"That was for your score." She said abruptly. I looked down at my elbow to see it red from the impact.

"And this-"

Without another warning, I hear movement and I brace myself for another hit, when arms are wrapped around me. Eyes wide and arms at my sides, I experience Cashmere hugging me tightly. I don't understand.

"This is for tomorrow."

I gulp, moving in her embrace. Tomorrow. Hunger Games day.

"If- In the case-" Then I bury my face into her shoulder. "Cashmere, if I die, I'm so sorry!"

She rubs my back and I prepared for another lecture on honor and pride. But I didn't get one. Instead, Cashmere sighed.

"Don't be. I'm sorry you have to be here."

I don't cry. There was no need to. Besides, I had a feeling I should hold off on emotion until we got into the arena. But I felt hopeless. Without being able to do much, I cautiously clung to her. She pulled away after a few moments, holding my shoulders.

"I have faith in you, Princess." She replied, rubbing my shoulders. "Just…have faith in yourself. You need to give yourself some more credit." She smiled. "C'mon. Take a shower so we can talk about your angle."

The elevator dinged and I walked hesitantly to my room.

* * *

><p>"So, Lillianne Snow, how are we playing this?"<p>

Lounging on the couch in the living room, Cashmere and I lay on two long couches. I flicked some of my wet hair back, and brought my feet up to the couch, feeling the velvet on my bare legs. Instructed to wear so by a note from Cinna in my room, I wore creamy cloth shorts and a pale blue button up shirt. My hair was drying and already waving like a mess on my shoulder and back. I looked over at Cashmere, who had changed into a pink bandage skirt and a plain white t-shirt, and shrugged.

"I don't know."

Cashmere put her hand on her chin. "Well, how does the Capitol know you?"

I scoffed. "That's easy. I'm Lillianne Snow, President Snow's youngest granddaughter. I was on the Ceasar Flickerman Show every year on my birthday week to celebrate. They've known me since I was around three."

Cashmere snaps. "Exactly! That's it!"

I cock my head to the side.

"Exactly what?"

Cashmere jumps off her seat with a determined look in her face. "That's it, Lillianne! They know you as little Lilly! The President's youngest granddaughter - heck, even I watched you on the Ceasar Flickerman Show back home in One when I was younger. But we need to change that…they need to see…they need to see…"

Then I catch her brain wave. "They need to see that I've grown up."

She snaps again int triumph. "Yes!"

I nod absently. Then I frown. "But…then what?"

Cashmere scoffs. "What do you mean, 'Then what?'"

I sat up straighter, putting my legs down. "I mean, yeah, I've grown. But what am I? An idiot, brave, sarcastic, sexy?" I gag at the last one, knowing I am in no way sexy. Cashmere smacks her forehead.

"You have a point."

I stood. "Look, I've grown up. And I want to cut the ties I have my grandfather."

Cashmere looks at me with wild eyes. "You can't say that, Lillianne-"

"I can say whatever I want to say!" I shout loudly, my inner seven year old coming out. Then I sigh. "I mean, I don't want to be known as "President Snow's granddaughter my entire life. I'm Lilliane. Just Lillianne. And maybe if I show them that I'm just like any other tribute, I can get a bit farther than we both know I'll probably get."

Cashmer bit her lip. "That's risky, Lill. The fact that you have such a high status can help you."

"But it can break me as well," I say as a matter of factly. "No one likes a stuck up tribute. They want a story."

Still not sold, she shook her head. "Lillianne, your grandfather is a very important man. One wrong move-"

"It doesn't matter." I say, cutting her off. I clench my fists. "President Snow has no control over me. He's not my father. He hasn't lived with me my entire life."

My mentor sighs again. "Fine. We'll cut your ties to the President. But how do we do that?"

We grow quiet. An idea pops into my head, but I want to shake it away. This one is too risky for my own life. Cashmere notices my internal struggle.

"Say it. Might as well."

I bite my lip. "Well…what if….with the timing and with how everything is…"

"What?" Cashmere interrupts, clearly wanting a concrete answer. I breathe in deeply.

"What if I don't agree with my grandfather?" I apprehensively reply coyly.

"You already don't." She answers harshly. I nod.

"But what if…I take it a step further?" I say, lowering my voice. Cashmere raises her eyebrow.

"What are you getting at, Snow?"

"What if I'm - the rebel?"

She tenses. I go on. "Think about it. Not a rebel as in 'I hate everything!' I mean, I agree with this - rebellion."

"There is no rebellion," She says quickly. I scoff.

"Please. Everyone in Panem is in on it." I respond. She rubs her chin, considering this.

"Think really hard about this, Cashmere," I coo, "I can grab their attention. I can have them at the palm of my hand. I can use the rebellion - well, the idea of it - to my advantage."

A smile is playing on her lips. "Cynical, conniving, strong - this would be a surprise for Panem." She grins. "I like the way you think Snow."

I grin back. "Thanks. Learned from the best."

She winks, sitting back down. "Now, let's really make a game plan…"

* * *

><p>Review for Part Two: The Interviews~<p> 


	28. Before the Bloodbath, Part Two

**I know, I KNOW! It's been so long! *cries to herself* **

**Just kidding, lol, but I know I've been holding out on you guys finding out what's supposed to happen. So here it is!**

**(And thanks for the reviews, guys, really)**

* * *

><p>"So, Lilly, do you know what you're doing for the interviews tonight?"<p>

I'm standing in the center of a prep room, on a raised part of the floor. My eyes are covered and I am blind by a piece of material, it's sole purpose to let my bangs dry from their coloring. Cinna is behind me, adjusting the back of my dress and the sides.

"I do," I reply, grinning a bit.

"Can I hear about it?" Cinna asks politely. My grin grows into a full fledged smile, and I let him in on it.

"I'm the Lilly who's grown up. The rebel child my grandfather tried to shield from the Capitol."

Cinna chuckles. "That's a hard story to swallow. I remember you in a cotton candy pink dress on the Caesar Flickerman Show when you were seven, dancing circles around Flickerman. Now to see a sixteen-year-old Lilly renounce her good-girl image - that's harsh."

My smile falters. "Is… is it a bad idea?"

"Not necessarily," He replies, and he pulls on the dress, making me suck in breath. "I just…just be careful, alright Lillianne?"

I nod, feeling the big bow made of hair on the back of my head move with it. "I will. But Cinna, I feel this will make me stand out. Imagine - Lillianne Snow, The All - Panem girl, siding with the rebellion?"

He stops, and I hear silence.

"What…" Cinna breathes, "What did you just say?"

Oh no. That's not what I wanted to say. That is nothing along the lines of what I wanted to say. I meant - I didn't -

"I - That's not what I meant. I meant…"

"Where did you hear this about a…a rebellion?"

I gulped. "I don't know what-"

"You just incriminated yourself, darling!" He said hysterically, nothing like the calm and collected Cinna I knew and saw on TV. My mouth opened for words to come out, but nothing did for a few moments.

"Where?"

"Everybody knows!" I shouted, clenching my fists. "Everybody is in on how it's not going to be long before they overthrow the Capitol. Everyone hates my grandfather. They hate him. They hate my family, and they hate me!"

My breathing grows heavy. Cinna says nothing, and I continue, finally being able to vent my feelings.

"These games were designed to punish the Districts for their uprising, for their rebellion - well what have I done? I haven't done anything wrong! I'm not the president, I'm not a murderer- Why am I being punished!"

"Lilly-"

"Don't Lilly me," I beg Cinna, my voice growing frustrated, "Please. _Please_. All my life I've been Lilly - I'm not stupid Lilly anymore!"

"I'm sorry, Lillianne." He said, sighing. I felt cold on my ribs, then a can of spray shaking. "you can take off the mask now, your hair is dry and your dress is on."

I do as he says, and take off the mask over my eyes and am tempted to rub my ears but I remember my eyes have been doused in eye make up. I blink instead.

"So, what do you think?" Cinna asks.

"About wh-"

My jaw drops at the dress I now wore, and my thoughts are now clouded with the beauty of the dress. It's a slimming dress, hugging curves that I was surprised I had. It was a very dusty blue, almost silver, and flared slightly at the end, like a subtle trumpet skirt. With a heart shaped cut, it was strapless, and on my ribs were two openings on either side, filled in with intricate designs of ice, echoing my parade look. I turned to see the back, and my spirits lifted. From my high heart shaped neckline, it cut down into a 'v' shape in the back, with extra soft but sheer cloth running down like a small and subtle cape.

"You never cease to amaze," I breathe, turning to the front now. My bangs have had their tips dyed blue again - like the parade - only lighter periwinkle. Slicked back, my hair gathered in the back as a bow constructed out of my own hair. My blue eyes stand out of the silver eye liner and blue flares on my outer eyelashes. My lips are frosted pink.

"It's my job to amaze," He says genuinely. I turn to him.

"I'm sorry." I say regretfully. "I shouldn't take out my issues with you. I shouldn't have shouted at you. And I'm…I'm not being mature about this rebellion. If it's not good, I can change my angle or tone it down. I trust- I trust you more than my mentor."

An unknown emotion flickers in his face, like the one Katniss gave me before the Tribute Parade. He stared at me for a while, like if he was trying to assess something.

"No." He said, his voice a million miles away. "Do it. It's different."

Something about the tone in his vibrato was suspicious, and he quickly changed his quizzical look to a smile. "You'll do great, Lillianne. Be yourself."

His smile falters, again giving me a look I can't decipher, when Cashmere bursts into the room, wooing.

"That's right! Best dressed once more! Cinna, I need to start betting on you!" She pats her hands on her long and flowing maxi-dress with a flower pattern covering the fabric. They're lilies.

"Now, now," Gloss warns from behind, "Cashmere, you know what we said abut gambling." Behind him, a handsome boy comes in. His blonde hair is messed up to perfection and had silver sprayed over it as well. His suit was powder blue, very retro with the navy blue piping on the lapels and a white shirt underneath. His pants were slimming, navy blue. He met my eyes with a slight smile.

"Well, our tributes are ready," Jaques says from behind, pushing Demetrius back out the door, "And the show is in ten. Let's get a move on!"

Demetrius chuckles. "Jeez, you sound like Cornelia."

I snicker as I catch up beside him, and Jaques throws us a nasty look. We chuckle together as our mentors and stylists usher us to the place where we will await judgement by the country of Panem.

* * *

><p>The trumpets sound, the crowd goes wild, and I hear Caesar's laugh from the staging area behind the main stage. I also feel the tension rise from the tributes behind me. We're all lined up in the back, ladies first, and in order of district.<p>

So naturally, I'm first.

If the fear of the crowd wasn't enough, the constant stares at the dress I wore were making me self conscious, the lights from the stage were making me sweat, and my thoughts on every possible situation that could go down were making my head spin. I looked back to see Demetrius staring ahead, mumbling to himself as if he was running through his 'lines'. I look farther and see Alex at the very end. I wave at him subtly. He winks and smiles, then looks at me up and down. He raises his thumbs in approval and nods goofily with an over-exaggerated wink again.. I laugh and suddenly, I'm jerked by Demetrius.

"_What_?" I ask, a bit annoyed.

"The stage manager called you to go up," He said, equally annoyed. My exasperated eyes widened, and I turned to, sure enough, a very stressed woman in a tight black dress beckoning to the side of the stage. I nodded fervently and stumbled forward, looking back. Alex gives me a warm smile.

"District One's - and my long time friend - Lillianne Snow!"

Caesar's voice is calling for me, and I realize that it's time. There's no one but me to shine for these three minutes, and my angle is not one to put to waste. From the wait, I know that my rebellion angle will be too much to handle. But I know exactly what to do, even if it means making the crowd feel strange. I brace myself and force a smile upon my face, strutting out from the side of the stage.

The crowd woos and shouts when they see me come around the corner, and I oblige by waving at them. My heart starts racing as I near Caesar, and when I do reach him, he reaches over for a hug.

"My dear, it's been too _long_!"

I hug him back, and answer. "I know! It's been a long time!"

We sit at the same time, and I smooth out my dress, the crowd 'ooing' at the glittery material. I wink at them, giving them a knowing smile.

"It has, Lilly! The last time I saw you, you were…nine." He gestures at my body and a whistle from the crowd makes me laugh uncomfortably.

"It's…er…Lillianne. And yes, I've grown a bit, don't you think?"

He laughs. "Well, yes! Look at you, a young woman already!" WIth a grab to my hand, he gestures me to stand. "Can you give us a look at that _exquisite_ dress?"

I roll my eyes playfully. "Eh, alright." Obeying, I spin once, the flare at the bottom of my dress fanning out and glittering in the light. The crowd goes wild. Reeling them in, I sat quickly, crossing my legs.

"Was that enough?" I challenge. Caesar laughs.

"Woah, there, what an attitude!"

My heart races as my act is getting noticed. I can't smile, though. So I shrug.

"You'd have one too if you were being sent to kill kids younger than you tomorrow."

The laugh from the Caesar's previous comment dies down into awkward silence. Caesar leans back, a quizzical look on his face. I straighten in my seat, a bit shocked at my brash statement.

"Well, while it is a lot to take in, I know the victory comes with great honor and respect, Lilly." He replies, then leans forward. "And I believe that victory can be yours, with the odds in your favor."

I laugh a bit too sarcastically for my own taste, making Caesar raise an eyebrow. I answer after my laugh.

"With a three, do you really think I have a chance, old friend?"

The crowd is getting even more uncomfortable. Good.

"Well, anythings possible." He quickly retorts. I shrug again.

"You have a point." I answer. I smile to relax the tension. "Maybe I'll see you again here for my victory."

He catches on to my innuendo, to relax, and he smiles brightly. "I look forward to that, my dear!"

The crowd picks up again and claps, less enthusiastic now. I give them a wink.

Caesar is quick to change the subject. "Now, Lilly, take us back to that fateful reaping. It is understood that you had no entries, however you were reaped as your District's tribute. Tell us, what was it like?"

I sigh. "Well, imagine this. You've been watching a game for your entire life on the television, next to your sister, rooting tributes on. Now imagine yourself in my spot, hearing your name being called through the speakers, knowing there must be a mistake. Caesar, I've never put my name in the reaping. I don't even qualify, as a Capitol citizen."

The crowd cheers for pride in their Capitol. I continue. "The first thing, is confusion. Wondering if they really called you, if you're in a dream, or a nightmare. The next is denial. They couldn't have called your name. Maybe they misread. After that, it is shock. You realize that it's happening. It's really happening. Finally, it's fear."

"Fear?" Caesar asks. I nod.

"Yes, Caesar. Fear. Fear that you may not come home. Fear that your family will lose you. Fear that you will die, that you will die the most horrible way there is to die: in the arena."

The crowd starts mumbling amongst themselves.

I keep going. "And when the fear sets in, you begin to wonder what your life means. Am I just a pawn in these games? Am I some _thing_ that people root for to kill others? Am I a nothing but a piece to entertain the bored citizens of Panem?" I turn to Caesar. "I didn't want to die this way, Caesar. Not with thousands of people betting on me or just hoping I'll make it through."

Some people are sniffling. I'm starting to wonder if I'm overdoing it. Caesar reaches for my hand and rubs it.

"Lillianne, we hear you. Loud and clear."

"No," I interject, again shocked at my remark. I pull my hand back. "You don't. Don't you see? These games are tearing us apart. The games aren't worth the lives of children. _Children_, Caesar. Would you want your daughter or niece, or even granddaughter in my position? About to go into a bloodbath? Fighting for people to like her?"

Now I really know I've gone overboard. Caesar's face pales a bit, and he looks away as if he's thinking it through. I'm about to take it back, but I just try to save.

"Look, Caesar, I know that question was uncalled for. But really, think about it. Citizens-" I turn to the crowd, "Think about it as well. I thank you all for your support in this unexpected turn of events, what with your President's own granddaughter in the arena. But think about this: Is it all really what it seems?"

My buzzer goes off. I thank heaven above that it's over. I want to cheer in triumph right now, to jump up in my chair and shout at the crowd, 'That's right! I made you stupid people think, the way I was forced to when I was nine!'. But I don't. I stand, just as Caesar does, and he grabs my hand.

"Lillianne Snow, you have become the - er - voice of the tribute. Darling, when you speak-" He gestures to the crowd, "We listen. Panem extends their luck to you, and may the odds be ever in your favor. Ladies and gentlemen, District One's Lillianne Snow!"

The crowd erupts into applause, now more genuine than the shouts of fervor from when I first came out. Some people were apprehensive, I saw. But I didn't mind. My interview was over anyway.

I'm about to turn to the exit, when Caesar makes me instantly regret everything I said in the past three minutes and makes my heart stop.

"By the way, citizens, Lillianne's own sister - supermodel extraordinaire - Juniper Lee Snow, is in the crowd tonight, taking a short break before the Jean Paul Gaultier show tonight! Tune in after the interview for the recaps, then the live show!"

The crowd claps and I frantically search for my sister. Sure enough, on the big screen, is my sister. She waves with a frozen smile on her face, looking exactly like Juniper would when she's uncomfortable.

_Oh no. _

_Oh no, oh no, oh no._

_What have I-_

What have I _done?_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Review on ahead~<strong>_


	29. Before the BloodBath, Part Three

_**Hey all! I'm sorry I've been churning out chapters so slowly, but it's getting more complicated as I try to figure out exactly how I'm executing this story. I appreciate all the reviews and wanna thank all of you that are still sticking by. I promise that by the time Lilly gets in the arena ( which is about two chapters away), chapters will go up much faster. **_

_**Enough of my talk, read! And remember, everything happens for a purpose~**_

* * *

><p><em>Juniper Lee was here.<em>

_Juniper Lee _is_ here. _

_For heaven's sakes, Juniper Lee is here!_

When I'm brought to the opposite side of the staging area, my team is waiting for me, somewhat apprehensive. Cashmere is the first to approach me and grabs my arm, smiling.

"Wouldn't have done it better," She said. I grin, and Cinna nods, agreeing.

"Not to shabby," He compliments, putting his hand on my shoulder, "A little hard core, but still good."

I suddenly start to shake. "I- I need to- my sister -"

"Look!" Cornelia shrieks, pointing to one of the many plasma screens lining the hallway, "It's Demetrius!"

Cashmere, Gloss, and Cornelia all gravitate towards the screen, but I grab Cinna's arm and lead him back. In a hushed tone, I bring him closer to me and let it out.

"Cinna, my sister is here. Why is she here?"

"I know," He answers, "This isn't good. Snow wouldn't allow this to happen for any other tribute-"

"But we're family," I say, "It can't count, can it?"

"You have a point."

We look over and see everyone watching as Demetrius flexes for the audience. Caesar and the crowd are in awe. Again, Cinna and I turn to each other.

"What have I done?" I say, panicking, "I just bought myself a slide on the memoriam slides in the arena!"

"Now, now, maybe it's like Caesar said. Maybe she's really here on business, but she snagged a ticket. They sell them, you know, it's not new."

I nod, trying to convince myself that that's it.

"Cinna, I just need to talk to her. Her face, it was-"

_"And what about Lillianne?" _

I freeze, no words escaping my mouth. Caesar Flickerman was talking about me now. I turned to the screen, not moving my position entirely, and saw as Demetrius chuckled, ruffling his hair.

_"Lillianne? She's…well, she's my district partner." _

The camera cuts to Caesar. _"I don't believe it for a second, folks. Look at that smile!" _The camera cuts to Demetrius, and he is, indeed, smiling. Back to Caesar,_ "There must be more. Tell me, is there…history?" _

The crowd is curious now, making a loud "_Oh_" and drowning it out. Demetrius gives them a genuine smile.

_"Well, we have known each other since she moved to One."_ He replies. That's true, I think to myself.

_"Come on,"_ Caesar urges, _"Details! You two were very friendly with each other when the cameras were around!" _

The crowd is getting anxious now and urge him to speak as well. Demetrius sighs.

_"Well…Lillianne and I…Lillianne's more than a friend to me." _

My body shuts down, and subconsciously I make my way to the television, joining my mentors and escort. My eyes are fixated on whatever else comes out of Demetrius's mouth.

_"One could say that…" _he pauses,_ "I really like her."_

The crowd gasps. My eyes widen.

_"And I know that it's going to be okay because…she likes me too." _

Demetrius wasn't joking on the train. He had something up his sleeve.

And he was executing it now.

Caesar is surprised. "_You sound awfully confident, Demetrius." _

Demetrius gives him a mischievous smile._ "Caesar, I'm more than sure. I've known for a while." _

Another audible gasp. Caesar leans forward. _"Has she…confided in you?" _

_"More than that,"_ He explains. He pauses again._ "She's my girlfriend."_

I want to throw up. I want to punch the television. I want to just die.

That was the farthest thing from the truth anybody could ever say about us!

_"Your girlfriend!"_ Caesar bellows, clearly surprised. _"Now we're getting somewhere!" _

The crowd applauds. Caesar continues.

_"And what's it like? With Lillianne?" _

_"Lilly…she's brilliant. She's smart, she's funny, she's caring. She has her head and her heart in the right place. I love her with every fiber of my being. She's just…incredible." _

But my heart starts to race, the last thing I want to happen.

"That little-"

The buzzer sounds. The crowd wants more. Caesar has to calm them down before he lets Demetrius go.

And then its over.

He bounds over to us from the stage, satisfied. Gloss claps in triumph.

"You did great!" He says, "Exactly like we planned it!"

A shiver goes down my spine. "You…knew?"

Gloss nods, patting Demetrius on the back. "Of course. It was, though, Demetrius's idea."

I turn to the liar himself, furious. He smiles sheepishly.

"Hey, babe."

"You lied about me, about us. To the entire country!" I got closer to him, "You've made me your fake girlfriend _for sponsors_? Who the hell do you think you are!_ Finnick Odair_!"

"Hey, I'm only telling my side of the story, remember?" He emphasizes on his last word, to make it clear that its part of some motive.

"Now, now, let's go back to the room to watch the rest of the interviews," Cornelia interjects, seeing the growing tension "A commercial is about to go on, and we can go." The mentors agree, talking amongst each other. Cinna eyes me cautiously, trying to decipher me. Demetrius takes my hand before we embark back to the Tribute Apartments.

"Hey," He says quietly. I take my hand back.

"What are you doing?" I whisper furiously.

"What I have to do to keep you alive." He whispers back quickly. I scoff.

"Alive? Please, you're only helping yourself, making me your personal idiot!"

"That's not true!" He replies, putting his hands on my shoulder.

"It is! You know very well it is, and I have every right to- MM!"

Demetrius crashes his lips onto mine, and my eyes widen, not really sure what's going on. I look in front to see Demetrius kissing me now, the second time we've been in the Capitol, the second time in - well, ever. Gaining my senses back and remembering I was ranting at him for what he's doing to me at the moment, I slap his arm and push him away from me.

"What- why did you do that!" I say loudly. He sighs.

"Don't you get it! I meant every word I said up there!" Demetrius replies. I laugh.

"Last time I checked, I wasn't your girlfriend. You don't - or didn't, I don't know - like me!"

"Trust me, please." He urges, trying to lace his fingers into mine. I bite my lip.

"Why should I trust you?" I ask.

"Because I trust _you_." He answered.

"Lillianne?"

Our heads turn to the person calling my name. Cornelia's back, only with a different look in her face.

"Yeah?" I ask, taking my hand back again.

She looks behind me, and I turn as well to see two large men in black suits and guns in their belts.

"Your…the president has allowed you an audience with your sister." Cornelia answers.

* * *

><p>Being led like a prisoner with two security guards at my side, we wove through the underground tunnels of the arena we did our interviews in for a good ten minutes. I'm missing the interviews, but somehow it doesn't really matter to me. At the moment, I just want to see my sister.<p>

And to apologize for whatever else is going to happen that's probably my fault.

I'm shoved into a room that's fairly similar to beauty base zero, back when I first got to the capitol, only it has a television screen with the interview on, a fluffily rug in the center, and two rounded couches facing each other.

The door closes behind me, but I know the guards are still here when they ask another person outside for clearance.

I shuffle to the center of the room, feeling the weight of my dress for the first time, the back fabric dragging until I reached the center. I look to the screen and saw District 6's girl tribute, as the title on the bottom of the screen suggested. She's in a short silver dress, a bit too tight for her, and her name is Agatha. The title said she was 13.

_Thirteen_.

"Make it quick, Snow."

The door closes as quickly as I hear those words, and I see my sister. She's wide- eyed and shaking, her knees turned inward and visible by her short white dress of lace. She's tired, I can see that- even the questionable amount of coverup under her eyes was a dead giveaway. We stare at each other for a little while, not sure what to say.

"June?"

"Lilly!"

We crash into eachother's arms, and I bury my face into her shoulder, not caring if my make up is smearing or that I'm getting blue dye on her white dress.

"Lilly - I - I can't believe -" Juniper's balling, and I feel her tears fall onto my bare shoulder.

"June, what' going on?" I quickly say, trying to not cry. I had to stay strong, for now. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy - Happy to-" She stops and cries more. I sigh, pulling away. With a scan of her face, I shake my head.

"You and I both know that's not it." I say, gripping her shoulders. Even if I had heels on, my sister was taller - with heels as well - and her head hung down.

"They told me not to tell you." She whispered. I bit my lip.

"I'm your sister. It's okay."

She shakes her head slowly. I sigh again.

"Did you get fired?" I ask.

She shakes her head.

"Did someone die?"

She shakes her head again.

I slump my shoulders down. What could be bothering my sister so much? And why couldn't she tell me? And who said she couldn't?

"It's dad."

I look up at her to see her now distant eyes staring at the wall. I shake her to look at me.

"What about dad, June?" I question, my voice shaking a bit.

"He…he took the bag."

I tensed.

"What bag?" I ask cautiously.

Her eyes meet mine again. "_The_ bag."

My throat goes dry. He took _the_ bag.

It was a few years ago. Juniper had just gotten her start at stardom as a model in the Capitol. Mom's business was at it's all time high. Dad had just signed a deal with District Three and District Six to make a new subway system for the city. And I had finally gotten my parents to let me run in track for school.

But it wasn't what it seemed.

Mom and Dad were starting to hit patches in their marriage, and it went downhill when Dad cheated on Mom. The worst part was that I knew beforehand what was going on.

And I didn't tell mom.

Besides that, after his infidelity, mom and dad didn't want to be near each other. My mother worked as did my dad, and while we lived together, my dad threatened to leave with a bag at the door, full of papers and important documents that he might need, as well as clothes and items he used. It's been there ever since.

And now it wasn't, along with my father.

"Maybe - Maybe he went on an emergency business trip, June." I quickly answer. "He - he wouldn't take the bag."

"That's not all, Lilly." She says quietly. A tear escapes her eye. "Mom's gone too."

I stumble back a bit. "Wait…what?"

She rubs her elbow. "I - I don't know, they had this argument after the reaping and then PeaceKeepers came to the house and they started shouting so I went downstairs and they grabbed me and then they sat us all down n the dining room and they started to question us about 'treason' and 'teaming up' and 'rebellion' and a bunch of other words that I don't know and then they left and mom lost it - like LOST IT - and dad got a phone call and just left! Mom had another breakdown and grabbed her stuff and left too, and she just left me alone, no warning, no explanation - nothing! Before she got in the car I yelled at her, I was like "What about Lillianne!" And she just started to cry and left!"

Somewhere in the middle of her breathless story, my mouth dropped open. When she finished, it took me a while to let it sink in.

Rebellion? Treason? Peacekeepers? Left? Gone?

This was my fault. This was all my fault.

"June - I'm so sorry!" I hug her again. She sniffles and wriggles a bit under my embrace.

"Sorry? You were gone, what could you have done?"

"It's all my fault, the peacekeepers, the rebellion, you being here- all because I got brave!" I cried, "I'm sorry, maybe if I just die in the Cornucopia they'll get off your back, and mom and dad can come back and-"

"You- what did _you_ do?" She says, "You've done nothing wrong!"

I pull back, grabbing her shoulders. "Don't you see? _Open your eyes_, Juniper! Me getting reaped is the cause of this! All of it! And grandfather could care less, what with his stupid obsession over-"

"Lilly!" Juniper shouts, appaled.

"He wouldn't help me, June!" I shout at her. "He wants me to die to calm down this rebellion!"

She's silent. The doorknob jiggles frantically, and a surly security guard comes in.

"That's it. Reunion's over!" He grabs June, her eyes wide, and she gets it. She finally gets it.

"_No_!" She shouts, grabbing her arm back. The man starts to grab her from the waist as she struggles.

"June, calm down!" I shout, trying to grab her, but another guard runs in and grabs me from the waist. "No, let me down! I'm just trying to-"

"You two are some really brave girls," One of the guards remarks, "Especially you, District One. Talking about rebellion. Bah."

"Lillianne-" Juniper shouts, kicking and wriggling in the guard's arms. "Please - be careful! Win! Please! Don't die!"

"June!" I shout, but the door is slammed shut. The guard is still holding me.

"June! June! JUNE! AHHHH!" I screamed in frustration. "Let me go, let me go, LET ME GO!"

"Calm down Snow," The guard responds, and starts leading me to the door.

"I will not calm down! Wait 'till my grandfather hears about this!" I shout, instantly noticing how spoiled that sounded. The guard laughs.

"Sweetie, your grandfather _sent_ us."

With another laugh, we exit the room and he personally escorts me back to the tribute quarters, leaving me with more worries outside of the arena.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Review, please! And remember, <strong>everything happens for a reason. _

**(;**


	30. Before the Bloodbath, Part Four

_**Okay guys...prepare for an apology...**_

_**I'm so sorry! I feel so bad for not updating! It's just, I just took my black belt test and I'm in the process of moving cities and there's been a lot going on and I don't want to give you all a mediocre chapter and and and-**_

_**Okay, I think I got it all. Please, continue reading. From here, the updates will get faster, I promise. Now GO!**_

* * *

><p><em>Before The Bloodbath: Part 4<em>

"Liliianne, are you alright?"

The elevator door slamming shut, I was dropped off at the Tribute's Apartments - well, thrown into - and I angrily pounded at the door, not sure what I could get from that action. Still I pounded and pounded, angry and shouting.

"No, Cornelia!" I shout at her, flicking the bangs out of my hair. "I am not alright!"

"Well I'm sure a little tea will calm down-"

"NO! SOME STUPID TEA WILL NOT CALM ME DOWN!"

My escort stares at me, her eyes wide. My heavy breathing halts, and I stare at her, equally wide eyed.

I've never shouted at someone so angrily in my life.

Everyone is around me now. CInna and Jaques are at my left. Cashmere and Cornelia in the front. Demetrius and Gloss on my right. They're all staring at me.

"I -" My mouth doesn't make words. "I - I'm-"

Through the small gap in between Cashmere and Jacques, I squeeze through, rushing myself away from them and into the safety of my Tribute bedroom. I close the door impatiently, fumbling with the handle, and rest my head on the cool door. Without moving my head, I peer down to see the blue dress still clinging on to my body.

I yelp and in panic I start pulling off the dress. I try not to break it or tear it, but I just wanted it off as soon as possible.

Anything to make me forget I was here.

The fabric and it's crystal falls to the floor in a small thud, and I jump out in my underclothes, to the bathroom. I see myself in the mirror, and I gasp.

My make up has stayed as it was, even with crying, anger, shouting, and hugs. While my hair dye is smudged, the blue is still contrasting against my blonde hair. Even my blonde hair is seemingly perfect - not like the dirty and pale blonde it was before, but bright and honey like. Skin clear, lips plump, eyelashes curled to perfection -

What the _hell_ happened to me?

I frantically splashed water on my face, rubbing away the make up with a small towel and soap. After a few moments of trying to wash off my face, I look up at the mirror again.

Skin clear, plump lis, golden hair, eyelashes curled to perf-

I slam down the towel on the counter, freaking out with a cry.

I wanted normalcy again. I wanted life the way it was before. Not since I was nine have I ever been in the public eye with such fervor. Never have I had so much pressure on my shoulders. After seven years of living behind my family and my last name, after seven years of just going to school, running at the gym, and going home, after seven years of just living like a normal person - I was thrust into the spotlight, even morsoe than my sister, mother, and father combined. Everything belonged to the Capitol and her grandfather now. My fate, my future -

Even my face wasn't mine anymore. With its stupidly perfect skin and lips and eyes and eyebrows - just looking at myself made me want to cry. It wasn't the fact that I looked pretty - I was gorgeous, now, no doubt. It was the fact that I didn't want to be like this on these terms. I didn't want to be pretty for the Hunger Games.

It was like fattening a pig for slaughter.

"Why…" I grumble. "Why…?"

The sounds of Juniper's cries before she was escorted out of the room ring in my ears.

_"No-Lilly-Please-Win!"_

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _

I wipe my eyes quickly and make my way back into my room. Holding my hands on the frame of the bathroom door, I sigh.

"Who is it?"

"It's Cinna." His voice is muffled behind the door. "I'm here to pick up the dress. And, to tell you the show is almost over. They're on District 10."

I press my lips together hesitantly. Before I reach for the door, I look down and see I'm half naked.

It would be best if I put some clothes on.

"Hold on." I answer.

After fishing out a shirt and some shorts, I open the door. Cinna smiles genuinely, walking into my room and picking up the dress on the floor without a single cry of protest over it or a question as to why it was on the floor in the first place. I watch him do so, fumbling with the shirt that turned out to be a crop top, exposing my stomach. After a moment of silence, I settle on watching the ground instead.

"If I were you, I'd go to the viewing room. District 12 will be on soon."

My heart fluttered dangerously.

"Huh?"

Cinna chuckled as he folded the soft and silky dress.

"Hurry. When I left, the time said 20 seconds for 10. They must be at 11 now."

_District 12. Alex. And Fern. Their interview._ I nodded, knowing that he probably figured I would want to watch. I turned to make my way through the door frame, when Cinna speaks again.

"By the way, he looked really handsome when I passed him by the staging area."

I blush without permission to my brain, covering my mouth slightly. I turn to him before I exit.

"Cinna…thanks." I paused, then added, "For - for everything."

"Hurry up and watch him, now." He said jokingly, picking up the intact crystal from the dress and giving me a wink. I smiled and bounded off into the viewing room.

* * *

><p>Fern's interview was bland.<p>

Maybe it was bland because I'd seen (and heard) all of it before.

In my honest opinion, I expected more. Especially since Peeta Mellark - the greatest interview I'd ever _seen_ - was her mentor.

The interview was simple: She's from the poor side of town. The Sow, or Seam, or whatever they call it. She's scared, but she's hoping the odds are in her favor. The Capitol is amazing and she's never seen anything so breathtaking in her life.

_Give me a break. _

I had to fight myself many times to keep from rolling my eyes excessively. I could've done that interview myself! And besides, still recovering from my freak out from earlier, everyone was watching me closely. In the rounded couch, I sat at the end with my legs up. Gloss, Demetrius, and Cashmere sat in the middle, and Jacques and Cornelia on the opposite end. We watched intently, each with their own commentary.

"That dress is fabulous." Cornelia breathes, staring at the high-low dress made of red floral print against creamy white backdrop, strapless with a rope-like belt.

"Eh, could be better." Jacques grumbles. "Ropes are so 70th Hunger Games."

"She looks like she's strong." Gloss says about a minute into the interview. Demetrius shakes his head.

"Nah, she's kind of average. I watched her during training."

"Well let's hope she's not hiding something." Cashmere replies, still watching the screen.

I say nothing until she finishes her interview and the buzzer sounds. Caesar chivalrously helps her up from her seat and thanks Fern for the interview. Then her answer makes me do a double take.

_"Of course, Mr. Flickerman. I can assure you, these games will be the most…_interesting_ game in history."_

My mouth opens a bit as I pick up the innuendo she's making, but don't know what it's for. I look over at my team with a look of '_did-you-catch-that?'_, but no one looks my way and they stare at the screen blankly.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, Fern Segovia from District 12!" _

Her heavily outlined eyes give the crowd a look that only I seem to catch, because when she meets the camera, it feels like we're staring each other down. She gives a dismissive and quiet snort as she walks off into the staging area.

"So Lillianne, what did you think of the interview?"

Cornelia's hesitant question makes me look away from the screen, meeting her totally fake hazel eyes. I sigh.

"It was…stale." I say simply, my arms crossing over my chest. Demetrius chuckles.

"You would know, watching those games religiously for years."

"Oh put a sock in it, will you Demetrius?" I retaliate. He leans over to me, seeing as he's closest, giving me a cocky grin.

"You look cute when you're mad."

"Stop. Now."

He nears my face seductively but playful at the same time, and I back away, annoyed. I'm about to slap him away when something else grabs my attention.

"Now ladies and gentlemen, our final tribute, Alexander Romulus from District 12!"

My face turns to the screen quickly, eyes large, and I hear Demetrius sigh exasperatedly as he moves away from me. I straighten up.

Alex strides in with a sly grin, his hair waved instead of his natural curl. In a navy blue suit jacket and matching slim pants, he shakes hands with Caesar Flickerman, and sits while adjusting his light pink tie.

"Why pink?" Cornelia asks just as I begin to wonder. I shrug.

_"So, Alexander, how are you?" _Caesar begins. _"Rumor had it that you pulled in to the Capitol with a fever!" _

I make a silent gasp at the piece of knowledge I was unaware of. The crowd makes sounds of concern. Alex chuckles.

_"I did have fever, but it was a short cold, is all. I'm fine now, Mr. Flickerman."_ He answers graciously. A bit _too_ graciously. I smile a bit and raise an eyebrow, as if mentally asking 'Are you alright?". The crowd claps in approval.

_"Please, call me Caesar!_" Caesar bellows,_ "We're all friends here!"_ Alex smiles again.

_"Alright, Caesar._"

_"Now, now, tell me - how do you think you'll do in these games?" _

Standard question, I think to myself. Usually left until the end, but easy to answer. I watch carefully to try to assess anything that he'll say.

_"I think I'll be the best tribute there ever was!_" He says sarcastically, and the crowd laughs a bit at his overeagerness. I smile as he laughs a bit himself._ "I'm kidding, but I do think that I have a great chance. I'm smarter than I look, Caesar." _At that comment, he turns to the crowd and makes a funny face, sticking out his tongue. This makes the crowd laugh a little harder at the hilarious tribute. Even Caesar himself is smiling wide at Alex.

_"You're a comedic one, aren't you?"_ He asks, nudging him playfully and Alex gives him a wink.

_"Hey, someone's gotta lighten the mood in the arena!"_ He answers with a cheeky grin and a thumbs up. Flickerman agrees with another laugh.

_"Why yes, and I know for a fact that your comedic attributes will soften sponsors!" _He looks at the crowd with a suggestive look, trying to acquire sponsors for him. The crowd laughs and Alex goes along.

_"Hope so, Flick!" _He replies, shortening his name. The crowd eats it up, and Caesar gives him a fake 'watch it' gesture.

As the crowd dies down, he asks another question.

_"So what do you think of this year's tributes? Any of them catch your eye or stand out?"_

At this question, Alex is hesitant to answer, a blush creeping at his cheeks. I bite my lip.

_"The competition is tough, Caesar. The tributes are all very…different in their own way. Some…" _He grins to himself and looks down._ "Some dazzle you more than others." _

Caesar bites the bait._ "May I ask whom?"_

The crowd is silent. Our room is silent as well, and I don't notice that I'm basically sitting at the edge of the couch. He blushes.

_"Well, it doesn't really matter now, does it?" _He retaliates quietly. The crowd groans, as does Caesar.

_"Come on, Alexander! Who dazzles you?"_ The crowd goes into a small uproar, trying to get him to talk. He sighs.

_"I know she shouldn't dazzle me, what with her boyfriend or whatever-" _He pauses, taking a breath,_ "But I've been blindsided. She's overwhelmed me completely." _

_"Who!_" Caesar gushes. The audience is anticipating it.

_"Well…her name's Lillianne Snow." _

In our room, there's a loud noise. Cornelia's tea cup has fallen to the ground, shattered into a million pieces. My eyes widen and stare at the screen. Demetrius's mouth drops.

_"What the hell!"_ He shouts. I don't answer. The crowd gasps loudly, not expecting this. Caesar's smiling hard, as if he'd won the lottery.

"_Miss Snow has caught your eye?"_ He asks. Alex nods, giving him a sheepish look. Caesar rubs his chin. _"But…how?" _

Alex smiles._ "She crept up on me, Caesar. Her eyes, her smile…the way she bites her lip, the way she averts everyone's gaze when she enters the room- Caesar, everything about her is just…wow." _

All eyes turn to me. I press my lips together slowly, still watching the television and not meeting their eyes. I see from the corner of my eye that Demetrius crosses his arms across his chest.

Back on-screen, Caesar asks him if we've become friends behind the cameras. Alex gives a mischievous smile.

_"Well, I'll just say that we're no strangers. And the cameras will show that."_ He winks at the crowd and the crowd applauds in excitement, already curious. Caesar laughs and the buzzer goes off on cue. The audience erupts into applause, and Alex blushes darker red, gaining a long "D'aw" from the viewers and Caesar himself. They shake hands and Caesar gestures him out to the crowd.

_"Alexander Romulus, the Tribute from District 12!" _

The screen goes black abruptly just as Alex gives the crowd a crooked grin. I turn to my side to inquire who has turned off the television, when I see Demetrius drop down the universal control to the couch. I raise an eyebrow at him and Cashmere stands.

"I think you two should get some sleep, its-"

"Lillianne. You and I need to talk."

I stay on the couch, my hands gripping onto the cushion.

"Why? Its late, we need sleep-"

"Damn it, Lillianne!"

I yelp as I feel Demetrius's all too familiar grip on my arm, harshly pulling me upwards and shaking me. Everyone stands frantically.

"Demetrius, unhand her!"

"Come on, man. You need to calm down."

"Let her go, Demetrius!"

I push him away and my legs find the floor, stumbling backwards.

"What the hell-"

"We need to talk, now." He says firmly. I stare at him, eyes wide, then look at the people around us, ready to hold Demetrius back. I sigh. He's right. We do need to talk. Today's events have gotten me tangled in a web of strategies and feelings that right now I wasn't sure what was going on. I turned on my heel to walk to my room, when Demetrius shouts behind me.

"Lillianne Snow-!"

"Calm down, Florence, I'm getting my jacket." I call over my shoulder. I slam my door for good measure.

* * *

><p>"So what is this all about, Demetrius?" I ask, leaning against the banister atop the roof of the Tributes' Apartments. He sighs, running his hand through his hair.<p>

"First of all," He replies, "I'm sorry about grabbing your arm."

I purse my lips to my left, not really buying the apology. "It's not new to me. Don't worry about it." I narrow my eyes at my last remark, and he looks down.

"Second of all," He continues, "I want us to sort out what's going on."

"So do I," I say with sarcasm, "Because it seems like you and Twelve didn't run your interviews through each other."

He scowls at my remark. I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for an answer.

"I should ask you then," He retaliates, "Are you two an alliance?"

"No." I say without skipping a beat.

"Are you two hiding something?"

"No."

"Did you know he was going to say what he said tonight?"

"No. I knew just as much as I knew what you'd say." I reply icily. He narrows his eyes.

"And are your feelings mutual to his confession?"

I open my mouth to answer 'no' again, but stop. Were they? Alexander Romulus was a creature I would never think twice of, ever. But in these short 4 days, I've learned to be his friend, maybe even more. His smile, his eyes, his charm- they enticed me. But I still couldn't bring myself to think of each other as more than two tributes who know one another.

Demetrius sighs. "Is that a yes?" He asks exasperatedly.

Glancing down, I shake my head. "It's…it's an-"

And then he kisses me again.

It's a short kiss, but a hard one. I feel myself getting pushed back onto the banister when he breaks the kiss, his forehead on mine. I look up at him, flustered.

"Why-"

Without missing a beat, he moves away from me, heading for the elevator. I turn to grab his arm.

"Stop. Demetrius, stop!" I shout. He stops.

"Why do you do that?" I scowl at him, "Why do you show me feeling that make no sense to me and then run from them?"

He turns away, shaking me off, but I run and stand before him. He narrows his eyes.

"Forget it, Lillianne-"

"No! I won't forget it! You've kissed me enough times for me to start to wonder what's going on! Is there something you need to tell me?"

His eyes search my own for a few seconds. He shakes his head with another sigh.

"There's nothing, Lillianne. Now come on, we need sleep." He sidesteps me and I grab his shoulder.

"Demetrius, this is probably the last time we'll talk before tomorrow. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours!"

"I told you, there's nothing left to say!" Demetrius shouts angrily, shaking me off again brusquely.

I stop him at the frame of the glass door leading to the small elevator room. He growls. My hands grab onto both sides of the door, holding my body upright. "Would it kill you to answer me once in a while?"

"It would!" He shouted at my face. He was incredibly close. We could see our breaths in between us, and he stared at me angrily. "It would get me killed the instant I let my guard down in the arena!"

I scoff. "So that's it? This is about what's going down int he arena? You're _using_ me? To win?"

He rolls his eyes. "As if you didn't know, Lillianne!"

My glare weakened and my eyes widened. "I-"

"It's a game, Lillianne! You and I both know that!"

I froze. I always knew something was up with my District Partner, but I never thought he'd be so…sure. So ready to betray me for survival. My vision began to blur with the tears in my eyes. Demetrius's angry face went into shock. He stepped back and groaned.

"No. You didn't."

But I had. He head earned my trust, even if it was a fraction of it. I believed in him, and even though he was suspicious to me, I believed him to an extent. I hadn't fallen for him, oh no- I had started to trust him. To think of him as a friend. I felt bad because of his sudden crush on me. I felt bad because I thought I had been so blind. Because I had been so ignorant. But it was all…a lie.

"I should've known." I whispered. "No. I shouldn't have been so stupid."

My arms fell from their place, hanging loosely by my sides.

"Lillianne, I thought-" Demetrius's voice softened, "I thought we were on the same page. I thought you…understood."

"I thought so too." I answered. He came to me.

"You want the truth?" He asked. "Here's the truth. You and me, there's nothing. You and me aren't anything. We aren't lovers, we aren't friends- But to them, to them we're something. To them, we could be the love story of a century. We could be better than Twelve. We could go home. And then you and me will never have to see each other again."

Stepping a little closer to me, he continues. "Gloss told me that making you fall for me will ensure me a win. The gamemakers will go soft. And your grandfather…he'll thank me for keeping you alive. But I don't love you. I don't even _like_ you. If none of this would've happened, we'd still be the same. I'd live my own life, and I'd bother you to go live your own. I wouldn't have kissed you, ever. I wouldn't have to hold your hand. I wouldn't have to smile at you like an idiot from afar ever, for the rest of my life!"

Finally, we're an inch apart. "But here we are, the lovers of District One! What can we do about it? Keep faking! Even if we did for the rest of our lives, I can't deny the fact that in reality, you mean _nothing_ to me!

He shouts the last part in my face. Without my consent, a tear falls down my cheek. Another soon follows. I stare at his mad face, huffing and puffing as if it took a lot to say what he just did.

And with all the force in the world that I could possibly muster at the moment, I punch him in the face.

He staggers backward, holding his nose. Then I retaliate with the words that have come to my mouth.

"You, of all people- I trusted you! I believed in you! I almost even liked you! You had no right to play with my feelings- I don't care if that's the only way we'd win!"

He peered over the hands holding his nose, eyes watery and red. I came up to his face. "You're a low-life. You think you can play the role of protector? You thought you could fool me for the Games? I saw right through you! But I was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You had no right, absolutely no right to make me feel bad for you because you had some fake crush on me! You're a liar! A fake! A jerk! I took _PITY_ on you! _I BELIEVED YOU_!"

Demetrius wipes his eyes. His nose is bleeding a bit, and purple starts to grow around his eyes and nose.

"We're done here." I say, finally, putting my pointing finger down. "I'll see you in the arena."

Tears are still falling from my face when he calls out to me. I stop.

"Remember, you're a career!" He shouts. "You still have to deal with me, wether you like it or not!"

I press the glass elevator's button with force and the door closes behind me. But even that doesn't prevent me from hearing him shout his last sentence.

"And you better hope I don't get my hands on your little friend Alex!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>So...review please? c:<em>**


	31. Of Insomnia, Elevators, and Fear

**_Hey all! _**

**_So, again, apologies from lack of posting. I beat myself up for not posting or finishing up chapters every day, I promise! I just moved 256 miles from my old town to San Antonio, and have very limited internet connection. _**

**_But I have a treat!~ (hint hint: starts with two and ends with chapters?) c:_**

* * *

><p>I can't sleep.<p>

Who can?

The Hunger Games are in a few hours.

We're all going to die in a short span of time.

And only one will win.

The odds weren't in my favor, I realized that. I didn't want to believe it at the reaping. I had some hope when I first met Cashmere. A little faith when I made two alliances, one completely on my own. Some confidence at the tribute parade. But with a three, an enemy from my greatest ally, and a boy who I want to desperately save - the bright side eventually dimmed.

With 24 of us, I realized my chances were less than 5% in winning. In staying alive. In going home.

And even if I was going home, what would I go home to? In one night, I've made enemies of my family, and endangered my closest family member.

Why did I have to open my mouth?

June's attendance of the interviews not only made my chances go down - they've endangered any chance at life after the games I had. My father was gone. My mother was coping, unsure of what to do with herself, but gone as well. Juniper was trying to do as many shows as she could to survive, even if its been a few the disappearances of my parents, Juniper really had to assume the position, something she was completely new at. And her being here tonight was planned.

Of course it was.

My grandfather graciously extended the invitation to watch her little sister live.

I winced in my bed, covering my eyes with my forearms. Why does he do these things to tributes? I knew of Finnick Odair, I'd heard of Johanna Mason - but me? His own granddaughter?

My words were strong, something I had hoped for but nothing I could ever control. With my open disregard for interview protocol and telling the truth like it was meant to be told - truthfully - I basically bought myself a slide in the nightly sky show in the arena. I was stupid for saying what I did. Stupid and immature.

If only I had known that before.

I rolled over in my bed, covering myself with a blanket up to my nose.

What's done is done, I know that. But my fears are not rested.

Being in an arena where I have no control over anything - that was nerve-racking. I wasn't talking about the actual games.

I meant outside the arena. What would become of my father? My mother? My sister? If I won this - and I doubted it - what would await me?

Would it even matter?

I shivered as I remembered Cashmere telling me about her tribute friend getting killed before her eyes. It was him or her.

Would it come down to that with me?

I was a career, I understood the things I might have to do. However, in executing them I wasn't sure.

I was aware of my team: Korto and Anko, the beastly children with wild eyes and tough limbs from District Eleven, Garrett and Cybele, the born and bred classic Careers from District Two, Marcel and Desidora, the freshly reaped twins from District Four, and my greatest enemy Demetrius, my own tribute partner. Excluding the twins, I know all of them will kill if necessary. All will survive to a certain extent.

Where did that leave me?

Running, climbing, and amateur knife work. That's what I had going for me.

I shut my eyes, imagining multiple deaths. By axe. By weather. By starvation.

So many situation flashed through my eyes, I wasn't aware that imagining every situation possible in which I could die could get me to the break of dawn, where I had dozed in and out of sleep, both dreaming and thinking of deaths. By the end of the night, my thoughts had varied to my funerals, to victory tours where parents and family members ambushed me -

But one dream made me wake up in fright, gasping for air.

It was where I killed Alexander Romulous and won the 76th Annual Hunger Games.

"_Lillianne_."

A muffled door at my voice made me turn my head. It paused.

"_It's time_."

Cinna handed me the next shirt I had to don. I was almost done dressing- I had on straight and slim dark brown pants, black socks, and a close to the skin long-sleeve shirt in dark green made of spandex-like material. I take the next garment - a cotton t-shirt in a dull gray - and pull it on, over my long sleeve shirt. Cinna brings over a chair and sets it over by his portable vanity, the one he brought to fix me up. I oblige, sitting before it and seeing my tired expression in the mirror. I sigh and he grabs a brush.

"You nervous?" He asks quietly. I give a breathy laugh.

"Nah." I say sarcastically. He chuckles and gathers my wavy hair with a brush and his free hand atop my head, coiling it to create my trademark bun. My bangs are pushed to the side and he offers a bobby pin for the arena, but I shake my head. I know I'd lose it.

"Wondering what it's going to be?" Cinna asks, taking out the pink ribbon he used for training. I nod.

"Of course. But it won't matter." I grumble. He sighs as he ties the pink ribbon around my bun tightly, fastening a bow onto the right side of the bun. He jerks it around to test it, seeing it won't undo. I smile at the gesture, wringing my hands.

"Miss Snow, you're ready." He says when I turn back to look at him. I look down to see my feet shoeless. He smiles.

"Those are on your bed. I have to go, but I'll be meeting you in the launch room." He gathers his things quickly, watching the time. He seems preoccupied with something in his mind. I stare at him as I make my way to the bed, where slim dark brown boots wait for me. I slip them on quickly, as they only reach my ankle, and tuck in my pants just as Cinna is about to leave. With a sigh, he gives me one last look to see I'm fine. He grabs me by my arms, surveying me, and he gives me a grin.

"You'll be fine." He reassures me. I nod, biting my lip. Cinna lets go of me, reaching for the door, when I vaguely hear his mumble.

_"-too much for a girl of her age and background to handle." _

Before I can say 'huh?', the door closes behind him, leaving me alone in my room.

Moments pass before I dismiss his statement, not wanting to over-think it. I remember I should eat before I leave, but I'm not hungry. I should talk to Cashmere-

I walk quickly to the door to take the opportunity to save myself in any way I can.

* * *

><p>"Where's Florence?" I ask, chewing on an omelet. Cashmere takes a sip from the orange juice.<p>

"Still getting ready. You look nice, by the way." She says. I smile at her, taking another piece of omelet in my mouth.

"Thanks." I gulp apple juice down my throat before I speak again. "Cashmere….what do I do?"

My mentor sighs, dabbing her lips with a napkin. "Well, today's the day." She begins, getting ready. I drink some more juice and sit back.

"Lillianne, you need to remember to keep your head straight in the arena." She begins. "At all times. Before the bloodbath, during, and after.

"Now, the first thing is the countdown. You have sixty seconds to prepare. You need to do two things. One: look at your surroundings. Where are you? Is it a desert? A rain forest? An abandoned city? From there, you start to plan your attack and strategy. However, don't wast your time doing that in the sixty seconds. Get a main idea, then move on to number two. Two: Who's next to you. Can you outrun him or her? Can you take on him or her? From these two instructions, you'll formulate your strategy in surviving the bloodbath."

I nod, taking in her instruction. "…So do I run at the Cornucopia?"

"Well," Cashmere elongates, "That's up to you. Ultimately, it's your decision."

I nod again, then stand when Cornelia's heels call our attention. In a ridiculous purple frock, she looks at her clipboard and then at us.

"Lillianne, it's time for you to go to your launch room. Demetrius will follow after., but you won't see him until you reach the arena. Good luck."

* * *

><p>I go alone. Before I went down to meet the guards, Cashmere stops me to wish me well and that she'll see me at the Victor's Interview. I laugh, hugging her tight.<p>

With a shiver, I clench my arms, remembering the hug. I don't notice but the elevator goes up instead of down, taking me to the roof. I sigh, cursing at the fact that I might be late, crossing my arms and rolling my eyes. I freeze when I see the person who's made me late.

He rushes in, calling over his back "Thanks, Katniss!" crashing into me and pushing me to the wall.

"I'm so sor-" He freezes when he sees me as well.

Alex stares at me with his eyes wide. "I'm sorry!"

I'm staring equally wide-eyed. The door closes behind him with a 'ding!' and I finally answer. "It….it's okay."

We then move apart, me on the left, him on the right, arms crossed. The commute is slow, as it just begins.

"I'm sorry." He says after a few moments of utter silence. I look down.

"No, I already told you it's okay-"

"Not that." He interrupts. "About last night. The interview."

I freeze again. "What?" I respond, turning to face him. He's not looking at me. I look away quickly.

"For what I said in the interviews. I shouldn't have put you on the spot."

My stomach starts to churn. Instantly, his words ring through my ears. "_She crept up on me, Caesar. Her eyes, her smile…the way she bites her lip, the way she averts everyone's gaze when she enters the room- Caesar, everything about her is just…wow."_

"Oh…" I reply breathlessly. "That." I turn to him slowly, peering at him under my bangs. He scratches his head sheepishly, looking down.

"Yeah, it wasn't right-"

"Don't worry," I interrupt, "Besides, Demetrius was doing the same thing. Just strategy, right?" I give him a smile, but my heart aches when I say the last part. He frowns.

"Yeah…just strategy."

We grow quiet. We're on the sixth floor, almost at the lobby.

"Hey."

Alex looks over at me and I give him a warm smile, continuing. "Good luck today. You're going to do great."

He stares at me with a look of disbelief. Or shock. I don't know exactly, but his eyes are wide and he's not really looking at my eyes.

It takes me a while to realize he's looking farther down.

At my lips.

"Yeah…" He says in a daze, "You too."

We stay watching each other, passing the fourth floor. My stomach does a cartwheel when he looks back at my eyes again, then shakes his head and looks away. I knew that look! I knew it!

He wanted to kiss me!

A thousand thoughts run through my head. This guy, a guy I _barely_ knew, wanted to kiss me! He'd confessed his interest last night, to the entire country. I punched the only close friend I had here. I hated that guy now. I could die in the next two hours. I've never had a real kiss like this, only dares and spin the bottle. But even then, they were pecks. Why am I thinking of this now?

Without thinking, I close the space between us and grab his black cotton shirt, pulling him towards me. I'm about to lean in when-

"Sorry!" I say, letting go of him and looking away.

I don't hear anything from him. I rub my arm, seeing the fact that we were about to land in the lobby.

But I couldn't _not_ do it.

I quickly leaned over to him, got on my tip toes, and pulled him down towards me. With a swift movement, I gave him a peck on the lips, pulling away just as quickly.

The elevator doors open with a 'ding!' and the guards are ready to escort us to our transportation.

That's the last time I saw Alex until Countdown.

* * *

><p>The launch room was a memory of the prep room, only empty and cold. A single bench sat by a wall with hooks, holding my faded silver jacket in its grasp. On the opposite side was a tube with an open door, which I had guessed would take me to the arena. I fumbled with my fingers as I watched the tube from my bench, a slight hum emitting from the contraption.<p>

_"Ten minutes to launch."_

Suddenly, the heavy door through which I was led opened and brought forth my stylist Cinna. I stood quickly, brushing off my lap nervously. We stare at each other for a while, not really knowing what to say or do. I give him a weak smile.

"So I guess it's time to die, huh?" I respond to the silence weakly. Cinna gives a breathy laugh.

"You're not going to die." He says with a smile. "You'll do great." He reaches over for the silver jacket, much like the normal jacket from every year, and comes to me. I'm about to take it in my hands and put it on myself when I realize he wants to place it on me himself. I give him a nervous smile and turn around, allowing him to put on my jacket for me. I feel his fingers trembling, something I didn't expect.

_"Five minutes to launch."_

"Cinna…" I say, not wanting to ask but my mouth beating my mind, "I- what is- what were you talking about when you left my room? About background and handling things?"

He tenses. I sense it. Once my jacket is on correctly, I turn to him and see a dazed expression in his eyes.

"Never mind," I say quickly. I'm about to say something else to change subjects when he grabs my face in his hands gently.

"Lillianne," He responds, "These games can change a person. They change lives, values, futures - and you will fall victim to the change. Your life will change in a way that even I can't tell you. But please-"

_"Two minutes to launch."_

We look up at the ceiling, as if the voice's origin could be seen from above. I look away from Cinna when he starts to speak again.

"Please, Lillianne." He urges, his hands moving to my shoulders and shaking me. My eyes meet his. "Remember who you are. Whatever happens, remember who you are."

"I'm Lillianne Snow." I say quietly, and I quickly acknowledge that it's a stupid response to his heartfelt speech. Cinna doesn't seem to mind my comment, only smiling.

"No. You're Lillianne, just Lillianne." He lets go of me. "No last name, place of origin, or anything can make you who you are - you are Lillianne."

_"Thrity seconds." _

"C-Cinna-no, I can't- I have to-"

I'm hyperventilating. This is when my body starts to shut down and panic. My eyes grow wide, and I start to shake. Cinna dives for my arms to try and steady me.

"You'll do great, Lillianne. I promise." He's trying to hold me down as I try not to cry or scream. "You will prevail. Calm. Down."

I nod, mouth slightly agape, and wobble to the tube. I sniff up some mucus, grabbing the side of the tube. My stylist helps me up onto the launch tube, and as soon as I'm steadily inside, the thing shuts closed. I yelp and turn to Cinna.

"Wait-" I hiccup. Cinna puts his hand on the clear tube and puts the other to his lips, shushing me gently.

"Remember who you are, Lillianne. Good luck."

And then I'm going up- higher and higher. My stomach does summersaults in its place, and I can't see Cinna anymore. It's dark, its cold, and silent.

"No…" I murmur, pounding my fists on the tube. "No!"

The tube vanishes then. It's concrete. The air stops being septic and starts smelling differently. I hear wind, I hear birds- I feel heat. Humidity, is what I feel. I look up, and its as if they've unscrewed a cap.

Sunlight streams in.

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><p><strong><em>Tune in shortly for the next chapter, then review! <em>**


	32. Countdown

**_Yay! FINALLY! I've been wanting to get into this already!_**

**_So, here is my present to all of you, asking for forgiveness on lack of posts. _**

**_Enjoy?~_**

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><p>At first, it's bright. Too bright. I feel like I've never truly seen the sun before. But my vision focuses quickly, and I gasp lightly.<p>

_"Look at your surroundings." _

I see a field. A big field. Forest surrounds the field with tall trees and a big number of large branches on them. The forest isn't exactly northern, however - the outer edge reminds me of a swampy kind of marsh.

_60_.

I'm on my plate already in directly in front of the Cornucopia. I've established my surroundings. I go blank. What goes next? What was next?

_"Who's next to you?"_

I look to my right and my eyes widen. The person next to me mimics my face, his grey eyes large.

It's Alex.

We look at each other at a loss for words, our mouths open and nothing coming out. This can't be happening. I look a bit farther to see the Careers all in close proximity. I want to scream.

They've pitted Alex in between the killers.

_ 52._

My lips press together and we both look away. I turn to my left to see a little girl with short and dirty blonde hair and freckles, trembling in her pod. She's probably from District 7 or 9. My eyes find Alex again and we stare at each other in fear, not sure what to make of the situation. My thoughts start racing quickly: Do I give up my alliance with the Careers already, and try to save Alex? What if he holds his own and I die in the Cornucopia? I'm shaking. I'm trembling. What if he dies? What if he makes it, and I die? What if he's killed off immediately? By my own hand?

_ 39._

Racking my mind to pay attention, I fiercely look away from him and my gaze turns to the horn of plenty, the Cornucopia. The closest thing to me is a mini-backpack. The farthest is a sword. I don't want a sword. My eyes flit over the array of weapons panickingly, and by the time I go through it three times, I don't see the knives. My hysteria rises. What was I without the knives? A girl who could run and jump and climb trees? No- this couldn't be happening. It can't - there had to be knives!

_27_.

I needed to calm down. I really just needed to breath, find the damn knives, and get ready to run. I could outrun them all and get to what I needed without hurting anyone….NO! I cant! I CAN'T! I want to turn around, push my pod back down to the launch room, and run to District One if I have to. I can't do this. I can't do this! I CAN'T-

_20_.

I see them. Finally. They're gleaming in a bag in an array of sizes. I want to sigh in relief, but I can't because I'm still in shock. I do want to go back - I need to go back! I don't want to do this. I can't do this! I'd claw my way down to the launch room - I just wanted to go home! Go home and watch the bloodbath in my blue pajamas with my sister wrapped up in a blanket with popcorn and candy!

_ 13._

That's it. I only have ten seconds. I need to get it together. I slap my face to snap out of my panic, and I get into a running stance. I take one last look around, sweep view of all the tributes. Its a blur. I hear the countdown loud in my head.

_10_.

Ready stance to run.

_9_.

Eyes on the knives.

_ 8. _

Eyes on Demetrius across me.

_ 7. _

Remember the kiss, the punch, and our plan.

_ 6._

His eyes widen in fear, then go back to a harsh killer's glare.

_5_.

Eyes on Alex beside me.

_4_.

Remember our kiss last just an hour ago, our alliance, and praying he won't go for the Cornucopia.

_3. _

_ Juniper Lee, I love you. _

_ 2. _

_ Mom, Dad, wherever you two are, I love you too. _

_ 1. _

There's no going back.

The buzzer sounds, and it's madness.

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><p><strong><em>Okay, now you can review~<em>**


	33. Those Who Fight

**Thanks for the reviews, guys c: **

**A three-finger salute to all of you! 3**

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><p>It was madness.<p>

I hadn't even realized I was the first one running when the buzzer allowed us to begin. Sprinting with my heartbeat drumming in my ears, I go past the first few layers of gear, making it closer to the Cornucopia. I'm about to reach for a backpack when I'm suddenly thrusted aside, rolling onto a bag of apples. My eyes widen in a frenzy and I scramble to get up, only glancing at my male attacker in a green jacket and a a chubby face. He swung to punch me, but I ran, my eyes finding the knives I desperately tried to reach.

All around me, kids ran frantically to the horn of plenty, grabbing and greedily taking. Some fought each other, others were just caught in the crossfire.

A rock flew over my head, its whipping noise making me duck and jump forward, grabbing onto a small backpack that slings over your body. I get up and look around when I see another boy, much taller and wearing an orange jacket, running at me. In his hands for a few seconds was some type of curved sword, as he thrust it at me. I moved out of the way quickly, shielding myself with the bag and the weapons getting caught in it. It didn't matter much, because I looked up to see him grabbing things and moving on. I'm about to turn away and run when I see my attacker ram into a familiar grey-eyed tribute.

Alex is grabbing a bag and turns just in time before the tall boy tackles him down to the ground. He gives me one last look, winks, and runs off into the marshy forest. A lot of other tributes are starting to disappear, and bodies are scattered on the ground. I turn to the Cornucopia and see the Careers flocked around it, fighting - well, one-sidedly - for weapons that have been taken, as well as supplies. I'm about to reach for more things to keep when I see someone cover my view of my knives. And its a fairly familiar eighteen-year old.

Fern, the girl from district Twelve looks around conspicuously, and I realize she's slipped past the Careers easily. Then she reaches for the knives.

"No," I whisper. Those were mine!

An instinct kicks in and I'm sprinting again, going straight for the bag of knives. Before Fern can sling them over her shoulder, I ram into her, pushing her down to the ground. The impact of falling on the ground over the older girl makes me realize that I've just attacked her. For knives.

Did I really just do that?

We come to our senses quickly, and meet eyes, both wide.

"I saw them first!" I say childishly through gritted teeth, and I reach over her to grab them, pushing her away. She starts reaching as well, fighting me and my arms for them.

"No way, Snow-" She says through her teeth, and her hand goes to my face, pushing me away. I momentarily falter, but muster any power I have left and elbow her in what I think was her stomach. She cries out in pain and I roll over, grabbing the bag and clambered my way out of our tangled position. She gets up just as I'm off of her, about to attack but hesitating. She turns around and runs for the marsh as well.

"Snow!"

I turn to see Demetrius running towards me. There are more bodies on the ground now.

"Demetrius!" I reply, looking around frantically. The last of the alive tributes were all either dying already or at the hands of District Eleven and Two's pairs.

"It's over," he responds breathily, "Most of the tributes are gone. The worst is over."

I look around, slinging the knives bag over my shoulder. "Where are the twins? And are you sure? There's still-"

"AHHHH!" Cybele runs past us with a spear in her hands, coming to a halt a few feet from us. She thrusts it out, and I see it pierce the skull of a young girl in a brown jacket. She falls instantaneously, and for the first time I realize that it is silent in the arena.

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><p>The careers have stopped. Everyone is gone. Bodies lay on the floor.<p>

And sadly, one of them is one of our own.

Dezidora shrieks again, and she falls to the ground beside one of the bodies. We all freeze.

Marcel is dead.

His small frame is face down, his head to the side, with blood oozing from his neck. His new tribute clothes are drenched. His twin sister, Dezidora, is by his side immediately. She turns him over to face her, and she's shaking him. Shaking and screaming his name.

"Marcel! Marcel!" She puts him down and bends over to his chest, then grabs his head gently, searching for a sign of life.

We lower our weapons. Cybele looks away, a hard look on her face. Garrett bites his lip. Demetrius sighs and grabs more things from around the Cornucopia. Korto and Anko shake their heads, and Korto looks away. Anko stares with a look of strength.

My hand goes to my mouth, covering it as it drops in disbelief.

"No-" Dezidora whimpers. "NO!"

She lays her head down on his stomach, her body shaking as she cries, her childish sobs reminding me of the facts.

The twins are only twelve.

He was only _twelve_.

I make a barely audible noise in my throat and my other hand covers my mouth, knife still clenched tightly.

"Come on," A voice says behind me. It's Demetrius, handing me a backpack. "Let her grieve and we can get a move on and set up camp."

The arena has gone silent completely. The cries of frustration, fear, and determination from children are gone, only the rustling of the trees and echo of the wind remaining.

The sobs from Dezidora fill the air.

I choke back a sob from myself. I take the backpack and turn away, wiping my eyes. Once farther from Dezidora, Cybele speaks up.

"Don't tell me your already crying, One."

I look up at her from my spot by the weapons, grabbing them and arranging them, and narrow my eyes.

"Sorry I'm made of feelings, Two." I say quietly. She scoffs. Garrett breaks the tension.

"Come on guys, let's get camp up already. I'm starving."

"Starving!?" Cybele interjects, moving on, "You had a burger before we got into the arena!"

I tune out their bickering and turn my attention to Dezidora. She's sitting now, just watching her brother, staring at him as if she's waiting for him to wake up.

Her whimpering breaks again and she buries her face into her hands, crying again.

I turn to Demetrius, who has kneeled beside me and was ready to take some weapons back to the boxes inside the Cornucopia. "Maybe we should-"

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

A cannon goes off. Then another. Then another. We all look up to the sky, some anxious and others nervous. I mouth the numbers as they go after the fourth cannon.

_Five. _

_Six. _

_Seven._

_Eight._

_Nine._

_Ten. _

_Eleven. _

It stops. We wait. No more.

"Just nine?!" Garret shouts.

"It was eleven, idiot." Korto shouts at Garrett, throwing down a pack of dried raisins roughly.

"Eleven," I whispered, standing up now. Dezidora stands too, and runs to the Cornucopia. I'm a bit puzzled at why she's running, but then I hear the wind pick up and I realize the hovercrafts are here to pick up the bodies. Dezidora stops and turns back, her ponytails going with the uncontrollable wind. I look towards where she turns as well, and I see Marcel's body being picked up.

I drop the bags I now carried and walked forward, towards Dezidora, just to make sure she'd get back to our grounds safely.

She turns and looks at me, and I stop, the sound of my new windbreaker rubbing against my sleeves. She then sprints towards me.

And she embraces me.

Her arms go around my waist and her face is burried into my stomach. I feel wetness around there, and I realize she's crying.

I stagger back and look to the group of Careers behind me, and see them all staring at me in confusion. I stammer for an explanation, but am pulled back to Dezidora's attention when she starts to talk through her bawling.

"I- I couldn't save- him!" She cries into my cotton shirt, soaking through to my skin-tight under shirt. "He- he was- we were going to - mommy, I'm sorry!"

_Mommy_? I look down at her, confused, but she pulls away, looking up to the sky.

"I'm so sorry, mommy! I - I couldn't!"

She hugs me again, and I realize she's apologizing to her mom, back home in District Four. I rub her hair gently, putting my other arm around her shoulders.

"One!" Cybele shouts, "You have to help!"

"In a second!" I shout back at her. To Dezidora, I rub her back now. "Sh…sh…it's okay."

"No its not," She cries, "Marcel - he's- he's -"

"I know," I soothe, "I know. Come on, let's walk to camp so we can finish setting up and we can talk then. Is that okay?"

She looks up and nods at me. I fix the flyways sticking to her forehead and pull her forward. In silence amongst the Careers, we set up what's left of the Cornucopia into camp and let Dezidora sob silently until lunch.

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><p><strong>Review~?<strong>


	34. Plans

**_So I've been living in my new city without internet for the past week or two, so I want to apologize again. Ugh, half the time I think I'm apologizing to you all. Anyway, just because I have no internet doesn't mean I'm not writing the chapters, so here is the new one!_**

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><p>"It's hot." Garrett whines.<p>

"Eat your soup, blondie." Korto scowls. Garrett and I look up, annoyed. Korto chuckles.

"I was talking to _him_." She explains, grinning and slurping her jar of soup. Garrett looks insulted. I shrug, rolling my eyes.

We're all sitting around a now fading fire, a fire that warmed our instant-soup found among the supplies of the Cornucopia. It's been quiet, no other tributes along our way, and the Cornucopia's field is now rid of bodies. The sun is high up above, and I think it's around three in the afternoon, judging by the heat. I sigh, shaking off my jacket and pushing up the long sleeves of my spandex-like undershirt.

"Eleven," Demetrius whispers loudly. "Just eleven?"

"I figured there'd be more," Cybele agreed, sipping from her jar of instant-soup.

"Well they got smart," Anko replied, throwing his empty jar behind him.

"Maybe years of watching the first kills in the Cornucopia made them realize the obvious: Don't go to the Cornucopia." I mumble, laughing to myself. Dezidora chuckles as well, and Demetrius smiles slightly. The rest of the group shoots us a dirty look. I put my hands up in surrender, jar in one hand.

"What? It's obvious!"

Cybele throws her jar behind her as well.

"So what now?" She asks, crossing her arms. "Are we staying here or what?"

I look up. "Well, why not?"

Korto speaks up. "We could get ambushed if we do."

"Since when has a Career group been ambushed?" Demetrius interjected.

"Fourth Annual Hunger Games, Day Seven." Garrett replies robotically. We all turn and give him a confused look and he shrugs. I shake my head.

"Besides that, I don't really think the tributes are in a position to ambush us." I reply, standing.

"She's right," Demetrius stands as well, "We have majority of the weapons. I think we only lost like four."

"And we have food. They don't." Garrett replies happily, slurping the last of his soup.

"Exactly," I echo, "We have the food. We have the weapons. We have the best spot to hide and hunt." I gesture to the ring of forest around us. "I do have one concern that might mean we'd have to move."

"And what is that, princess? _Too much sun so we need to find shade_?" Cybele questioned mockingly. I narrow my eyes.

"No. Its water."

Cybele's mock-face fades and grows serious. "But we have water."

"We _had_," Demetrius corrects. He turns to me to gesture my continuation.

"Yes. We _had_. The fact is that Dezzy had to go get water from a stream nearby, and that stream was way too tiny to maintain seven of us. We need to find a water source."

"So do you expect us to pack up all we have here and head out?" Korto asked, a bit ticked. I shook my head exasperatedly.

"No, I'm not saying that. Right now. I mean that we should keep that option open in case the gamemakers take our closest water source. They can do that, you know."

"We're not idiots, One." Cybele barks at my last statement. I roll my eyes.

"The point Lillianne is trying to make," Demetrius cuts in before we can have another back and forth, "Is that we should be prepared to leave should the gamemakers take our water. I was with Dezzy, and I saw the stream. It wasn't enough to sustain more than three days - that is, if we all survive."

Anko sighs. "Its not the survival. Its the game itself."

I stare at him, pondering over his words. Briefly, though, because Cybele is talking again.

"Fine. Let's take that in to consideration. Now another thing. What do we do about the other thirteen tributes?" She crosses her arms.

Everyone grows quiet. They turn to me, and my mouth opens, taking a while before I can put my thoughts into a sentence. "I - what _about_ the other tributes?"

The District Two girl with jet black hair scoffs. "Don't be naive, One. You know what I mean."

I look down at the fire that once was, staring at the puffs of smoke that never made it more than two feet off the ground. "That's not my call. I'm not the leader. No one is."

"I think we've established that," Cybele replies, standing now, "But the question remains. We're a big group. We'll do better together. I say we fish them out, starting with the groups."

"Get rid of the alliances before they get bigger than ours?" Korto asks, rising up as well. Her district partner, Anko, rises as well.

"Sounds like a good idea." He says simple, crossing his arms over his chest. Demetrius shrugs.

"I'm in."

Garrett jumps up, weapon in hand, and twirls it in his hand. "Finally, some action!"

Dezzy says nothing, but nods quickly. I sigh.

"Then if that's our plan, we can't stay."

"Then you're plan on leaving will be of use, one." Cybele answers, grabbing the nearest bag and zipping it open. She turns to me before she does anything. "How are we doing this?"

I scratch my head, surprised at how I suddenly became leader, even if it's just for this one plan. I look around at our camp, seeing that it's been well organized. The food wasn't as plentiful this year, with more jars and cans than fruits, nuts, and snack food. There were five jugs of water, purified water, and we had found ten tumblers to hold water inside. Backpacks were plentiful, ranging in sizes. Weapons were ours.

"We stay the night. Make them think we're not moving." I reach walk over to stand by Dezzy, slinging a backpack over my shoulder. "Then before the first rays of dawn, we leave, without a trace."

Anko interrupts. "What about the supplies we cannot take?"

Demetrius replies. "Simple. Whatever we can't take, we burn. Break. Get rid of."

"We can't give the other tributes the upper hand." Garrett adds, nodding in agreeance. Demetrius gives a curt nod back.

"Yes. We try to take as much as we can, though. Then we'll leave." I say.

"And we'll hunt them down, one by one." Cybele whispers, pounding a fist into her open hand. She turns to the group. "You heard Princess. Korto, ration the food. Anko, ration the medicine. Demetrius, grab the bags that we can use. Dezzy, fill the tumblers with water with Lillianne. I'll start breaking weapons."

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><p>"Do you really think this is a good idea?"<p>

We're packing up our own bag, a large backpack or duffel that crosses our body, filling it with equally distributed supplies. The only thing that's unequal is our weapon(s), the only reason being is because we all have our silent boundaries. No one asks about choice of weapon, nobody brings it up, nobody talks about it. Cybele has her spear, and it never leaves her hands when she's standing. Garrett has his sword - the typical Career weapon - and twirls it around his hand absentmindedly. Korto has her axe, and she's strategically made a strap that goes around her waist out of other weapons' straps. Anko has a a curved dagger that he grips with intensity when he stands silently. Dezzy has no weapon, but carries a slingshot with small, marble-like ball-bullets - the slingshot in her pocket, the bullets in the other - she found rounding up supplies after the bloodbath. Demetrius has his two short swords in their holsters on his hips.

All my knives have been hidden in various parts of my clothing and body. Only four are in straps, two on a belt strap and the other two on a thigh strap. There are extras in my duffel bag, in the smaller back pack I hid inside, just incase.

I turn to Dezidora, raising an eyebrow. "What? Leaving?"

She shakes her head. "No… hunting them down."

I falter at an answer, closing my opened mouth into a tightlipped frown. I grab some bread - my ration - and stuff it into my bag. She watches me quietly. Without looking at her, I answer.

"It's not my first method of choice…" Five apples go into my bag, "…But if it works for them, so be it." I turn to her. "I'm just trying to stay alive."

She nods slowly, soaking in my answer, and she takes five apples as well, putting them into her green backpack. I stop for a while, after slipping in two tumblers of water, and watch as Dezzy carefully places her items in her bag, in slow motion, almost. I cock my head to the side.

"How you holding up, Dez?"

Dezzy presses her lips together, staring at the tumbler of water in her hand. Her voice breaks. "Fine."

I exhaled quietly, then put my bag down, putting my arm out. "Come here," I urged quietly. She obliges quickly, wrapping her arms around my waist and burrowing her face into my stomach. She sobs quietly while I rub her back for a moment or two, rocking her slightly.

"Sh…sh…I know, I know…"

"No, you don't!" Her muffled voice whimpers out of my abdomen, "You don't know what it feels like…to have your only friend…the most important person in your life…taken away!"

My mouth opens a bit in awe of her sudden anger, but I don't blame her. I realize she has a point. Her words suddenly remind me of my sister at home, how my mother and father have vanished, how my grandfather has sent me for slaughter, how Demetrius is using me, and how Alex is somewhere in this arena, trying to stay alive. Alex…how was he? I wanted to know, I yearned to know - was he alive? He had to be. He had to!

Lost in my thoughts, Dezzy and I have pulled away by the time I'm back on Earth. She wipes her eyes.

"I'm sorry….I didn't mean that…."

"No, its o…kay…" I answer dazedly. She notices.

"I'm fine now - What's wrong?" She looks around quickly, shaking off her sadness, but getting alert. I shake my head.

"Nothing, it's just…I thought of something, and - it worried me."

She watches me as I look around the arena after my answer, and her stare becomes a sly grin. She looked back at Demetrius, who was behind her a few feet away, arranging his backpack. She turned back to me, nearing me. I raised my eyebrow at the mischievous look in her eyes.

"What?" I questioned. She smiles a bit wider.

"Were you thinking about the boy from Twelve?" She asks shyly. I raise my head and my eyes dart around our camp, my mouth parted - I wasn't prepared for that! Much less from the twelve year old! I feel the pressure on me to answer, knowing the camera is probably on me now.

"I - why would you - _Dezzy_!" I whisper disapprovingly. Dezzy chuckles.

"I was just asking," She answers, walking back to her bag. She takes some of the bread from a little pile next to us of supplies. Before she slides it into her bag, she stops and looks back up at me.

"Lilly, is it really true?" She asks, "About you and Demetrius?"

"No," I answer quickly, not caring if I ruined Demetirus's strategy. We're on live television, and I could care less. I would not go through with that plan. "Not at all. Ever."

I angrily stuff in one of the four jars of soup into my duffel. Dezzy nods in understandment, standing quietly as she watches me pull out my frustrations on the jars of soup. She grips onto the straps of her backpack.

"Well…is….is it true about the District Twelve boy?"

I freeze, my cheeks flushing. I look down, dropping in the last jar in my hands. "Alex?"

"You call him that?" She cheekily asks, smiling. I blush a bit more, glaring at her.

"Stop it, Dezzy." I reply. She pouts lightly.

"But I want to know…" Dezidora whines, and I instantly know she's faking her whine. It sounds a lot like…Juniper's. The way Juniper would coax something out of me. Furrowing my eyebrows, I watch the small girl mope about her lack of information, and then it slowly fades away as she gets preoccupied with something else. I know when she remembers her twin brother, because her face falls and goes blank, her bottom lip quivering. I grip the duffel bag in my hands, wringing it.

I sigh, looking away. "….Yes."

Her head whips towards me at the answer. "Yes? Yes, what? Yes, what?!" She asks excitedly, snapping out of her daze of depression. I look over at Demetrius, and he's busy zipping up his bag, finishing up his job at collecting his own things. I realize that Panem probably realizes that they've been lied to, and that I've killed my alliance with him. I look back at the direction Alex disappeared to. I silently hope he's safe, wherever he is. Without looking at Dezzy, I answer.

"Yes. He dazzled me too."

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><p><strong><em>Review?<em>**


	35. Priorities

**BELL IS BACK! Sorry for no updates guys! Moving to a new school can be hectic, especially if you're new to the public school thing. Here's the new chapter AND PLEASE KEEP READING!**

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><p>We watch the memoriam in the sky quietly, finishing up our dinner of leftover food from our packing during the anthem. When that finishes, we see the fallen.<p>

The girl from three.

The boy from three.

Marcel, from Four.

Dezzy does a strange sound in her throat when she see's her brother's face in the sky, and she looks away quickly. I put my hand on her shoulder and squeeze it, but keep my eyes on the sky.

The boy from five.

The girl from six.

The boy from six.

The girl from seven.

The girl from eight.

The boy from nine.

The girl from ten.

The boy from ten.

I give a silent '_thank you_' to no one in particular, closing my eyes and bringing my chin to my chest with a small smile. Alex was fine. He was alive. That's good - for now. Fern wasn't on the memoriam either, which could mean that they were together. That was also good.

I let out a slow breath as I looked over at the circle of tributes around me. Each looked exhausted, except for Korto and Anko, who never really looked tired anyway. Dezzy's head made its way to my shoulder, and she yawned quietly onto my arm. I yawned shortly after, placing my own head over Dezzy's.

"Do we all know the plan tomorrow?" I asked. No one answers in word, but they all nod, looking at their rationed supplies. I give a curt bob of the head. Cybele sighs.

"I think now is a good time to call it a night," She stated, zipping up her jacket. The temperature was dropping quickly, and each of us gripped onto the rolled up thermal sleeping bag on our laps. She began to undo hers when Korto interjected the action.

"What if we get ambushed while we sleep."

I'm about to roll my eyes and go back to the conversation we had earlier, when I'm instantly cut off.

"I'll keep watch." Demetrius answers quickly. We all turn to him in surprise. He hasn't said anything since this afternoon, and even now he doesn't look at us, staring at the small fire in front of him.

"Good. We'll have two shifts. Demetrius will do the first half of the night. Any other volunteers?" Cybele asks. No one answers.

"I'll do it." I say quietly, raising my hand meekly. I already realized I wouldn't get a full night's sleep - contrary to my yawning - and I needed to do some thinking of my own while the Careers wouldn't watch me. My head unlatches from Dezzy's. "I'll do watch until dawn."

I look over at Demetrius, and we both stare at eahother for a few moments. He gives me a hard look and from there I look away quickly, back at Cybele. She yawns uncharacteristically and nods.

"Fine by me," She answers, "Don't doze off, One."

"And _when_ do we leave?" Garrett asked groggily.

"At the slightest bit of light in the morning," Korto replies harshly, "The darker, the better. If we have any shadows watching us now, it'd be best to disappear."

"I agree." I comment, zipping up my own jacket. "I'll wake you up at the first ray."

"And then tomorrow we find the water source here," Korto adds, "See if we can find warmer nights and find the tributes. Where there's water-"

"There's tribute." Garrett finishes, rubbing his eyes.

"For sure," Demetrius interjects, "We need to find Twelve. They're a strong alliance, and were very secretive during training. Wouldn't want them to pull something under our noses, now, would we?"

I tense, eyes widening. _No, not Twelve. Not them. Not __**him**__. _I remember his threat to me last night, before my elevator door closed, after I punched him in the nose.

_"And you better hope I don't get my hands on your little friend Alex!" _

My throat tightens. I look down, and I know I have to say something. Anything. But what? What could I possibly say or do that could keep them from hurting him, without raising suspicion? Suddenly, someone else answers for me.

"Aside from Twelve, we have other districts - we don't even know if Twelve is an alliance."

I'm surprised and shocked to see that it was Dezidora that came to my rescue. From my position - head inclined down - my eyes flitted over to her beside me and I see her watching me from the corner of her eye. I look away quickly. She does too, continuing. "We can't count on just a 'Twelve' alliance. There's three more tributes aside from them, and they've already formed a bigger alliance than Twelve if those three are together. Twelve is the least of our problems."

"Look, we'll see what happens, okay?" Cybele snapped exasperatedly, throwing down her extended sleeping bag. "Let's just get to sleeping already."

Cybele unzips her bag and snuggles into it, her elbow propping her up. Garrett follows her motions, doing the exact same thing and dozing off just as quickly. One by one, the tributes of the Career Alliance start dozing off. I don't budge, not even when Dezzy falls asleep, snuggling close to my side. I absently stroke her pigtails, watching the fire burn down.

"Go to sleep, Lillianne."

I look up with a small jolt, forgetting Demetrius was the only one to stay awake. He gave me a hard look, and my wide eyes softened.

"Alright." I replied, leaning against the wall of the Cornucopia, "Just…be careful, okay?"

His stare loosened, and he scratched his head sheepishly. He answers, "I will. Sleep."

I do as such- at least, I try, closing my eyes for what feels like the first time in years.

* * *

><p>I awaken before its time for me to keep watch. I know this because of the moon's position - it's not where I planned it would be. I sat up quietly and rubbed my eyes, flicking the stray hair that had fallen out of my bun out of my face.<p>

"You're up too early."

I turn my head and with my peripheral vision see Demetrius standing by the outer rim of the Cornucopia. I don't meet eyes with him, looking down at my hands.

"I realize that."

"Go back to sleep. You need it."

"No."

He turns back to me and sees that I've stood, and am walking towards him, hands in my jacket pockets. He sighs, his warm breath visible in the cold air. I stand by him, closer than I wanted to. We stay silent, our breathing the only sound in the quiet arena. I shuffle in my stance, leaning away from him.

"What's your plan?" I ask genuinely, a worried look on my face. He doesn't meet my gaze, staring ahead.

"I'm not telling you."

I frown, reaching for his arm. "But…"

"No. Just - just stop. You can keep watch now." He's about to turn when I take hold of his arm. He stops.

"Please. I may not be with you…but I'm _with_ you." I tried to hide my message without hurting his strategy anymore, hinting that I had his back - as a District Partner. He understands, because his eyes meet mine. Finally. He presses his lips together.

"If it means keeping you alive, I'll risk anything." He says hushed and quickly, looking away from me. I shake my head.

"Please, don't-"

"You may want _him_," He said, shaking me off, "But I was the first assigned to you. It's my job to look out for you. I made it that when you first held my hand. I promised myself when you tried to be my friend. I owe you that."

Alex. He meant Alex. I bit my lip. "You don't have to -"

"I do." He said firmly. He grabbed my arms and looked me straight in the eye. "What happened before the games had to happen. You needed to understand."

Underlying messages. Before the games, I punched him. He said he hated me. I needed to understand? Understand what?

"You needed to sort out your priorities," He said to answer my question, "I've sorted mine."

He means Alex again. Does that mean…he wanted me to come to terms?

"….Do I still have time to sort them out?" I asked. In other words, Can I change my plan before they (the Careers) kill me? Can I still decide that my judgment on Alex is the right one?

He looks at the sky, biting his own lip. My habit has rubbed off on him.

"I hope you do, Lillianne." He says.

With that, he leaves me, standing at the mouth of the Cornucopia watching the sky. The grid is visible in the dark sky filled with fake stars. The wind rustles ominously, blowing my hair with it.

I have by morning to figure this out.

I take out a knife from my pocket and twirl it in my fingers, hoping for no funny business during my watch. I had a long night of 'sorting out my priorities'.

* * *

><p>REVIEW!<p> 


	36. I Smell Tribute

_**Yes, I've been gone. Yes, its not fair to you. And yes, I am very sorry and aware that I haven't supplied anything in months. **_

_**...but I'm trying :)** _

_**-Bell**_

* * *

><p>I had to run.<p>

There was no other way.

I stood at the mouth of the Cornucopia with a firm stance, eyes narrowed forward and watching intently, two knives in each hand. One twirled absently in my right hand.

I had pretty much decided that if I was going to get Alex out of this alive, or even myself if I was - heaven forbid - too late, I had to separate myself from the Career group.

But how? How do I escape from these masters at the game? How do I leave them behind and live to find Alex?

I sighed, turning to my side and pacing. It wasn't as dark as it was when I took watch, and it was worrying me. I was running out of time. I needed to figure out a plan to leave the group behind in a secret fashion.

I stopped. I could run now. I turned my head quickly to the inside of the Cornucopia, watching the sleeping and unconscious Careers. I could run now, right now, at this very moment with my supplies. I could do it, I could-

Dezzy's quiet snore made my thoughts come to a halt. I couldn't leave her here. She was the smallest, the youngest - it would be cruel to leave her now, on the first day.

_Well, technically, its the second._

That's besides the point. I shook my head and looked away from the Cornucopia and forward ahead to the empty field. It was quiet.

Think, Lillianne, think, I thought to myself. I had to get out of here. And if I was going to save anyone from the group behind me, it was Dezzy. We needed a distraction, something to get away from the pack. But we had to be safe. We needed supplies.

A beeping noise interrupted my thoughts. At first, I was startled, getting in a ready stance. But nothing came. The beeping was coming from above.

My face turned upwards, and I saw silver container floating downwards towards me, a white parachute holding it against complete gravity. It was a gift. A sponsor gift!

I put a knife in my pocket holster and looked back inside the Cornucopia to find the group still asleep, and I let out a sigh of relief. I reached for the gift and took it in my hands, making sure it was mine. It was - it stated so with the silver "District One" engraving in the container. In fact, it wasn't a container at all. It was a small bag. I detached the parachute cloth and stuffed it in my jacket, then zipped open the bag. inside was a smaller bag, one almost alike, and two straps - they most likely went with the bags. At the very bottom was a card, business card sized made of thick material. It was a message, short and lettered in silver ink.

_"If you're gonna run, take this. And for that little girl, too. Be careful. C."_

Cashmere. She sent me two pouches. Easily concealable pouches. I smiled. I understood.

I looked up at the sky, mouthing _"Thank you!"_ , when I noticed the sky was not dark. I hid my gift in the jacket I wore and hurried into the Cornucopia.

"Wake up, lazy asses! Its time for us to go!"

* * *

><p>We left the Cornucopia with no protests from the other tributes. There was no noise, no scene. It was as if we had never used the Cornucopia. The sun rose about an hour after we departed.<p>

"Nice time-keeping, One," Garrett praises. I give him a weak smile as I walk beside Dezzy, in the middle of the group. Cybele passes us with a humph.

"Almost let us oversleep because of it, Princess." She grumbles grumpily. Dezzy and I meet looks and roll our eyes, holding on to our packs. I put my hands in my windbreaker pockets, feeling the crumbled up bags in each one.

"Where exactly are you taking us, Demetrius?" Korto asks, her accent thick and fresh in the morning. We all looked at Demetrius who trekked on in the front, who in fact hadn't said a word all morning. I frowned. After our little talk last night, I didn't know what to say to him. Should I answer his question? Should I talk to him? Should I…bring him with me?

No. I couldn't. This wasn't for him. It was for Alex. Not for him.

"I'm going North. The moss, its pointing South." He says. We all look at the moss around us, and he's right. Its all in pointing in a singular direction. He continues, "So if we head North, we'll probably get to higher ground."

"Why are we heading to higher ground? Shouldn't we go for water-?" Korto interjected.

"Are you sure you don't have it mixed up, pretty boy?" Cybele questions. He shakes his head.

"I'm pretty sure I have it right, Cybele-"

We all freeze. A rustle is heard through the trees, and we stop in our tracks in silence. Quickly with almost no sound, we all pulled our weapons and huddled close, forming a circle and looking around.

"Did y'all here it too?" Dezzy whispered with a smile.

"Sure did…" Cybele responded absentmindedly, watching her front and letting her words hang in the air with her sword aimed and ready.

We waited for about a second more. Then I heard it. A breath, almost a grunt. And release.

"Duck!" I yelled.

They did as such, and two spears whizzed through the air from the brush on our right. We all turned to that direction, ready.

"I smell tribute," Cybele says with a smile.

And we ran.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please review. I'm sorry, again!<strong> _


	37. I Have a Plan

**_Hey all! New chapter~_**

* * *

><p>"We got a runner!" Garrett yells with an excited laugh.<p>

Through the marshy water, our legs splashed the moss and collective leaves away as we chased a figure far ahead of us. But we were catching up.

"Lillianne, when we get to dry ground, sprint!" Anko yelled. I nodded, and prepared by getting in front of the group. Once I felt the ground grow less moist, my feet gripped onto the ground and I pushed off in the direction of the running figure. Soon, it became visible - it was a girl. A tall girl. With a side ponytail and a black jacket…

I tackled her down to the ground from behind and something in the action felt somewhat familiar. We tumbled together, gripped on to each other, rolling on the hard ground. I rolled her over to straddle her, a knife in my hand and holding her down with the other, when I met her brown eyed glare. She struggles as I push her down, and her big brown eyes meet mine with a look of recognition -

"Fern." I whisper, my eyes widening.

She growls at me and struggles more, and my grip on her loosens just a bit. I hesitate instantly. Do I let her go?I pause, and look around cautiously. Is Alex around? I look back down at her and ask her with my eyes. She snarls at me. What do I do?!

It's too late for letting her go. The group has caught up and is pointing their weapons at her. I look up at Dezzy with a scared look on my face. Dezzy bites her lip, instantly understanding, and puts up her slingshot.

"District 12," Demetrius says, kneeling beside me. He looks down at her, then back at me with a satisfied grin. "The other one can't be far."

I get off of her and stare at her as she snarls and growls like a wild animal under the weight of Demetrius. I feel the tired feeling crash upon me and I realize I'm panting.

"What do we do with her, Cybele?" Garrett says hungrily as he turns to Cybele. She's coyly playing with the tip of her sword, mulling over her thoughts.

"…Where's the other mutt, 12?" She asks with eerie politeness. Fern spits at Cybele's feet. Cybele kicks her in the side and Fern whimpers, bending over on her side. I move forward to stop her, but Dezzy instantly grabs my arm and remotely shakes her head, not facing me. Cybele laughs at the tribute under Demetrius.

"Let's keep her. Maybe the other one will show." Cybele replies, with the last word. Someone fishes out a rope from their supply kit and manages to tie the uncontrollable Fern underneath the weight of Demetrius. She's yelling and thrashing, she's scratching and clawing at whoever is holding her. Eyes wide, I stare in wonder at this creature with bloodshot eyes.

"Let me go, you swines! You filthy Career wannabes, you disgusting, sadistic, murderers! Murderers! MURDERERS!"

I stare at her in awe, her cries echoing in my head._ Murderers! Murderers!_ Cybele is teasing her, mimicking her yells and crying out for Alex.

"Come on out, 12! Save your little friend!"

I feel a pang in my chest._ Please don't come. Please. Stay away. Stay away._

We wait for a long while and no one emerges from the trees. Fern is panting and her voice is hoarse.

"Please! Alex!_ Help me!_" She's desperate, tears building. No one comes. Dezzy's grip tightens on my arm.

"Bring her. We need bait. We'll walk a few miles and set up camp. Maybe we'll get lucky." Cybele grins slyly. Garrett and Anko take Fern and drag her, as she refused to walk. I walk behind with Dezzy, anticipating my next move and how Fern has interfered.

* * *

><p>"Break time!" Garrett beams, dropping Fern on the ground. She's stopped thrashing and kicking, being still. Demetrius sighs as Cybele rolls her eyes.<p>

"He's right, we need to break if we wanna find a good camp ground. Maybe we could even camp here. " Demetrius looks around and continues, "What do you think, Korto and Anko?"

The stoic pair from District 11 look at each other, then nod. Anko speaks. "It is high ground, and the moss points that we are north. All other tributes ran east and south. We should be safe."

Demetrius turns to the rest of us. "See?"

"However," Korto interjects, her voice rare in my memory, "We need a water source."

"Dezzy and I will look for it." I quickly volunteer. Dezzy smiles nervously and nods, shaking her water jug.

"I'm game," She says shyly. Demetrius and Cybele eye me cautiously, more Demetrius than Cybele. I raise my eyebrows at him, questioning his doubt. He shakes his head.

"Then it's settled." He says. Cybele stares at our duo, then does something unexpected.

"Here." She fishes a rectangular object out of her jacket pocket and throws it at me. I catch it, and I see it's a compass. I look up, confused.

"Don't get lost, princess." She says begrudgingly. She turns away, hands in her pockets.

I put it in my pocket. "I won't. Now hand me the jugs, we're gonna fill them up."

* * *

><p>"What was that all about?" I asked Dezzy once we were at a safe distance. Dezzy stays quiet. I turn to her, realizing Dezzy hasn't said much all day.<p>

"What's wrong." I say, more of a statement than a question. Dezzy keeps looking forward.

"They're suspicious." She says quietly, almost a whisper.

"Suspicious?" I echo. She nods.

"You've been out of their sight a lot. Cybele is worried you have a plan."

"Don't we all have a plan?" I say. She stiffens.

"Not Cybele, apparently." She answers. She looks around cautiously, then whispers, "I can hear what they're saying. I can hear anything."

"What are they saying?" I ask as we come to a rugged path.

"She's suspicious of you and Demetrius. She doesn't buy his strategy. And it's killing her that she doesn't know yours."

I'm surprised at this. I smile a bit in triumph, then keep on listening. Dezzy continues. "She thinks you have a plan and she wants to keep you close to her. After holding your own for the past two days, she says she doesn't trust you, but that she thinks you're not completely stupid."

I scoff and roll my eyes. Leave it to Cybele to throw in an insult even when talking strategy. I feel squishiness under my feet all of a sudden. Dezzy and I look down.

"Mud. There has to be water close by."

We follow the mud as it gets sloshier. I want to bring up my plan to Dezzy, but I don't know exactly how to do so.

"So…" Dezzy interrupts my thoughts curiously, "Do you have a plan?"

Thank you Dezzy.

"I…" I hesitate. She stops.

"You do have a plan. I knew it!" She turns to me excitedly, then stops. "But- but you can't tell me right?"

I squeeze my eyes shut. I have no idea how to do this. I rub my forehead and sigh, then open my eyes. I put a finger over my mouth, and jerk my head to the side, motioning us to move forward. She looks around and pulls out her slingshot, nodding. I reach for a knife and walk cautiously on.

"Clear." Dezzy whispers. I nod in okay, then stop as we reach a small cliff. We've lost the water source. We've gone off trail.

"I have a plan." I say inconspicuously. Dezzy grips onto her pack. I crouch down to her level. She eyes me nervously.

"I have a plan, and you're part of it too."

* * *

><p><strong>Review review reviewwwwww~<strong>


	38. Together

"I have a plan. I have a plan, and you're part of it."

Dezzy's eyes widened. She looked around again, then back at me.

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to run." I said simply, pulling out my sponsor gift. "We're going to keep these on us, fill them up with what we can right now, and wear them under our windbreaker. Then on my signal, we run."

It was a simple plan, really. And Dezzy had a hard time countering.

"We can't stay, can we? We're easy targets." She quietly answers to herself, comes to terms. I nod, biting my lip. The silence of the marsh around us is deafening, and I hold her by her shoulders.

"Which is why we're leaving. Together."

* * *

><p>We returned to camp with, of course, questions. Why did we take so long? Where was the water source? Can we stay? All those untrusting glares greeting us.<p>

"The water source is very far from here," Dezzy answered, pointing at the direction we came from.

"You all wanted water, didn't you?" I added, setting down the jugs. I turn to see Garrett tying up a tired Fern to a tree nearby. "So are we staying here for camp?"

Cybele rips open a bag of trail mix with her teeth. "It seems like we can, now, can we?" Her voice was not easy to detect. Was she asking or snarkily replying?

"I don't know," I said, uneasily. Dezzy finished my sentence with the same tone. "Can we?"

Anko shook his head. "I'm not sold. If it took them this long to just get water, we really shouldn't."

Cybele interrupted. "But we've already gotten settled." She sits on a boulder near her. "Besides, the farther from resources, the less suspicious this is. Right?"

"Right!" Garrett yells as he approaches us.

I stop listening. Dezzy and I sit down on the grass as they argue. We have a silent conversation of our own. I turn to her at the same time she does to me.

With a subtle nod, I raise my eyebrows. She nods as well, one slow bob of the head. I tug at my windbreaker, and she pats the area where her small bag now hides. We stocked up what we could on our way back, as we kept our bags with us while searching for water. I look over at Fern and grimace, turning back to look at Dezzy. She sucks in her lips, looks down at the ground and closes her eyes. I look back at Fern and she's staring daggers at my eyes and I wonder to myself that should I let her go, would she have mercy on me?

* * *

><p>The plan was simple. The careers would fall asleep - heavy sleepers that they were - and Dezzy and I would escape, nowhere to be seen, heard, or found.<p>

When we would execute that plan would be the main problem.

We spent two days at that camp site. There were no deaths in those two whole days, and the Careers were getting antsy. Garret couldn't sit still for more than fifteen minutes and we had to send him out on patrol just to keep him busy. Everyone was hiding. And that included Alex.

He never came. There were hours when Fern would cry out angrily for help, but no one would come. Other times she'd sob for Alex. Others she'd curse his name. However, she mostly watched me with a murderous look in her eyes waiting for my death to come painfully and slowly. She was weak, as we didn't feed her. I'd slipped some food to her but she'd let it rot beside her or spit it out when I tried to feed it to her. Without water, her voice became hoarse and she stopped yelling altogether.

Dezzy and I were waiting for the perfect time, and it seemed to never come. On the second night, while we watched the Capitol's Seal in the sky and the announcer announcing no deaths we turned to each other and had a conversation with our eyes, something we've had to do in the presence of the Careers.

_When_? Dezzy asked. I looked down and my eyes darted up slightly at Demetrius who was in front of me. I looked back at her.

With a slight movement of my head to the right then down, I meant to say _tonight_. We couldn't wait any longer. Her eyes widened. She pointed downwards.

_Tonight?! _her eyes said. I nodded slightly. We ended the conversation at that, and just as we did the show ended and Demetrius turned to us.

"So who's keeping watch on Twelve?"

Dezzy and I look at him, then at each other.

"We can split it," Dezzy says quickly, not missing a beat. "We haven't done it yet."

Cybele whips her head toward us with a suspicious eye. "You sure you don't want one of us helping you, Dezzy? Princess isn't the most reliable at watch."

I roll my eyes at her and Dezzy shakes her head with a small smile. "I'm okay, Cybele. Lilly and I can handle it."


	39. Envy

Nights in the arena are terrifying. Its silent, a pregnant kind of silence that is both hopeful yet terrifying.

Let me explain. At night, anything goes. And so far, it's been completely uneventful, which makes me worry. Could it be that I've just been missing cannons with the deafening silence? Or is it so uneventful that the gamemakers are going to have force some action. Not to mention its pitch black at times, with only the fabricated moonlight shining down on our little camp site. I wonder if there's any tributes nearby waiting to kill us. Or worse, Alex being close enough to be caught by us.

Sitting on a mossy boulder by Fern, I yawn into the silence, the sound hurting my ears after not hearing a sound for a good three hours. I turn from my stare towards the woods to find Fern staring at me. I jump, startled, because she was asleep the last time I had turned to see her. I put my hand on my chest and recuperate from my scare, looking down to my knees.

"I hate you."

I look up from my spot on my knees, then look over at the tied up District 12 girl, covered in dirt and grime. Her long brown hair was matted on her shoulder, her droopy eyes still strong enough to shoot me a death glare.

I look away, staring forward with a hard face.

"You wanna know why?" She continues, her voice tired and half conscious.

I do want to know, I do. But Cybele told me not to talk to her. And Cybele and I were not simpatico at the moment. Any moment, actually. My teeth clench, and I stay firm, looking back at the camp with my peripheral vision.

Fern chuckles breathily. "They can't hear you," She replies. "They fell asleep on you. Careers sleep like hibernating bears."

I smile a bit, then hide it quickly. The girl had a point, however. It was hard to wake the group this morning, something I found to be happening every morning. Then we found Fern-

I took a quick glance over at her, only to look away again. She was getting into my head, I knew already. Besides, looking at her made me think too much of Alex and how thankful I am that he hasn't come looking for Fern.

And my fear that he will.

"Do you want to know or not?"

I look back at the camp, where the Careers all slept peacefully. I released my legs from my grasp and stretched, sighing. With a dejected and nonchalant tone of voice, I answer. "Sure. Why not?" I crossed my arms and faced her expectantly. She blew a piece of her auburn hair away from her face.

"You don't even realize, do you? With your little stunt in the interviews, with Alex-"

She looked up suddenly, looking around, then shook her head. I cocked my head to the side.

"I _envy_ you."

I felt a twang in my chest. It hurt.

But why?

"Envy?" I ask, lowering my guard slightly. Fern then laughs maniacally, in a hushed tone.

"Don't flatter yourself, District One, you are nothing to me." She stops, then looks away. "You were everything I wanted, though."

I'm confused. She can tell.

"Alex's little stint was my idea. But not for you, oh darling. Not for you." She leans back. "I wanted to come home with him. Start a life with him. It was a long shot, but it was almost like a godsend being chosen with him and I thought, he's not a bad guy. I'd love to try and survive this game with him. And then he met you.

"He couldn't stop talking about you. And when it came to speaking of strategy, I told him what I had in mind. And he walked away from me. Just like that. An hour later, he's telling the entire country he's been in love with you since he laid eyes on you, and I'm the rejected tribute with no one to call ally, trying to hold on to my ridiculous notion that maybe because we're form the same district he might take a chance on me."

I'm speechless. I can see her eyes are burning with tears. Her voice is breaking.

"You don't know him like I do, sweetheart. His mom is dead. His dad works to keep him and his little brother alive, and with Alex away, no one could probably make the medicine his brother needs to survive. Alex? He's a healer in our district. He's such an amazing guy, learning to make medicine for his brother and anyone else who might need it - it's a shame he chose someone as vapid as you."

She's angry now, and I feel dumbfounded, dumbfounded and stupid.

"Fern - I -"

"Don't. I don't want your pity, I don't want your explanation." She squints her eyes. "You know what? I feel sorry for you. You actually believe that Alex has a soft spot for you? I'd get with the time, princess and get it straight - he's just going to play you like he played me. And I'm going to enjoy this downfall -"

"Shut up!" I whisper furiously. I stand and tower over her. She laughs.

"You don't scare-"

"I don't know if you're delusional, but I feel sorry for you. You may not realize this, but I'm the closest thing to an ally you ever had. Those "bears" back there?" I point at the Careers. "They are going to murder you. Brutally. Once they realize you're of no use to them - you're through. He's not going to save you Fern." I paused. "No one is."

She stares up at me, then snorts. "I don't care anymore, Lillianne Snow. I've done my job. I hope you fail at yours."

My job? My air of upperhand is gone and I'm once again confused. It's like she just gave me a code I had no idea how to break, and she reveled in this. Suddenly, I heard shuffling behind me and I turn to see a sleepy Dezzy with her slingshot in hand.

"Is something wrong, Lilly?" She asks drowsily, eyeing Fern. I turn to her and then back at Dezzy.

"No. But it's time to switch isn't it?" I ask. Dezzy nods. Before I walk off, she stops me and comes close.

She whispers, "Is it still happening tonight?"

I stiffen, hesitating. I answer, "No. But I'll give you the signal. It's going to happen quickly."

We both nod and I head to the campsite and watch Dezzy sit in front on a silent Fern for a while until I don't remember the last thing I see, letting sleep take me.


	40. Chaos

"One, get up."

My eyes shot open quickly, and I reached for a knife in my pocket, aiming it at the person who I can feel standing over me. I lower it when I see Cybele over me, scoffing at me.

"Please. Put away your toy." She says, swatting away the humid air.

I roll my eyes, tucking it back into my pocket, and stand. WIth a brush of my hands, the dirt on my skin tight bottom clothes comes off. I turn to see that Dezzy is no longer at her post, but walking behind Cybele with a scared look on her face.

"What's going on, Cybelle?" I ask, sliding on my jacket. She starts walking away from me towards Fern, and I follow. I look around and see the camp is empty, only Dezzy trying to get to me before I go any further, her attempt in vain when we pass her. I see her shaking her head frantically, but the sleepiness in me doesn't click with the sense of urgency in her eyes. I ignore it. Up ahead, farther than Cybele, are the rest of our group.

"Where are we going?" I ask again. Cybele doesn't answer, just walks. I grow frustrated quickly.

"Damn it, Cybele, what the hell is going on!?" I shout. She turns to me, a weird look on her face.

"Your friend didn't come." She said simply. "We don't need her anymore."

My face reads confusion, as I still don't understand. Fern? Are we letting her go? Giving her a head start? I stop in my tracks, trying to put the pieces together.

Then my eyes widen.

"We're- Cybele-!"

She laughs then, making my skin tingle at the sound. I step back cautiously, eyeing her suspiciously. Finally, she stops and gives me a smile.

"Oh Princess, we're not going to kill her!" She's still laughing. "It's much better than that!"

We walk a bit farther and we see Fern tied up to the tree, still somewhat conscious. Her droopy eyes spot me and she glares. I remember bits and pieces of our conversation and it seems like in a matter of hours, Fern has aged decades. We both come to a stop and she's breathing heavily, still glaring at me.

The group of remaining Careers - District One, Two, Eleven, and Dezzy - all stand around Fern, with me in the middle. They all look at Fern, then back at Cybele.

"So is this going down or what?" Anko asks. Cybele gives a small smile, answering, "Well we're all here, aren't we?"

"What's going down?!" I ask, a bit of a hysterical tone in my voice. Everyone turns to see me and Korto, next to Cybele, hands Cybele her shining black axe.

"I thought you'd figure it out by now," She sighed. Then she handed me the axe.

"What?"

"She's your kill, Lilly." She says sadistically, throwing the axe's hand towards me.

I hold the shiny axe in my hands tightly, staring at Fern. My kill?

I couldn't. I shifted my eyes towards Dezzy, the furthest from the group. She shaking her head, and her hands trembling, she raises her slingshot. She aims at Fern and I realize what's she's doing.

She'll kill Fern and I'll create the distration to run.

I had to think quick. What could I possibly do?

Dezzy pulls her slingshot back.

My eyes dart to the other side and I see Garrett watching Fern anxiously, with a bloodthirsty look in his eyes, salivating and wishing this was his kill.

Dezzy is ready. So am I.

I swing my arm around and release, but not forward. To the side.

"AHHH!"

The axe lands square on Garrett's face. Fern is hit on the side of the head and blood is everywhere.

I turn to Dezzy.

"RUN!"

And all hell breaks lose.


	41. Hide

"RUN!"

It's chaos, but I grab some knives and run. Fast. I can hear running behind me, and I can see it's Anko and Demetrius. I pick up the pace and send two knives behind me, aiming them towards the boys. I miss, but it's enough to make space between them. I came into a sloped area and I jump, finding my body on a slope and sliding, dodging ranches and breaking them with another knife that I pulled from my jacket pocket.

"Don't let her get away!" I can hear Cybele yell in the distance, her voice getting farther and farther as Anko, Demetrius, and I slide farther and farther. I regain footing as quickly as I can when I reach the end of the slope an I turn to throw a throwing star I managed to salvage at Demetrius, and lo and behold, that sucker stuck onto his thigh. He tumbled down, crying out in pain. Anko is unfaltered and is still coming after me, and I keep running. The further I get, the taller the trees are becoming and marshy branches emerge from the ground. I stumble over some and it not only slows me, but it slows Anko as well.

I try to keep running but Anko is gaining on me. Not only that, but I can hear loud rustling coming closer towards me. Korto and Cybele must be gaining on me. Dezzy must've gotten away. Or they're after her too and we're about to cross paths.

My train of though is immediately cut short when I tumble to the floor. I'm stuck on a vine.

"No no no no no!" I slash at it with the knife in my hand and I stumble away from Anko as he falls over a branch. Both of us are stumbling to get away.

The branches are getting thicker on the ground, and neither Anko nor I can get a lead further or closer to each other. I look up and I can see that I'm going to have to climb. The branches are far enough away from the ground to where Anko can't reach but close enough to where I can latch on and climb. But I need a lead.

Once again, I stumble down. I can't get it, and he's getting closer. I'm struggling to cut loose and finally I can. I reach up to hoist myself up and I'm about to feel liberated -

"AHH!"

My scream pierces the marsh as I'm forced back down brutally. Anko is reaching towards me, stuck himself, but with one of the knives I threw earlier stuck deep in the back of my calf. I'm bleeding. I'm pulling myself away but it's cutting me even more, sliding down to my Achilles heel and tears are blinding my eyes as I struggle to do anything to get away. Finally, I just start thrashing my arm aimlessly with a knife in my hands and I manage to stab him in the shoulder he stabbed me with. I stick it in deep and he releases his grip on the knife and me, the knife out of my leg. I struggle up and limp while I try to run. Anko is yelling in pain, attempting in vain to get the knife out of his shoulder.

I reach a tree and I start to climb, using only my upper body strength and the adrenaline surging through my body. I had to get out. I had to get out of their view, their path - I had to hide.

I look down at my leg and I see blood dripping without cease. I cry out in pain.

* * *

><p>I reached the top of the tree before Anko could reach me.<p>

I had no idea if Dezzy got out as well.

Anko and the Careers - Cybele, Korto, and Demetrius - all came after me, weapons ready. However, they lost my trail of blood - not bothering to look at the streak marks on the trunk of the tree I climbed - and moved on.

"She's probably hiding in a cave somewhere," Cybele barked at the team, "She'll die by tomorrow."

Forming a circle under my tree I tried to regulate my breathing and stay quiet. As I moved myself to hide, the cut on my leg began to burn, and I had no choice but to supress a scream. I bit into my hand and shut my eyes, hoping for the burning to stop.

It didn't.

Down below, Korto looked up at the tree. I froze.

"What?" Cybele asked. Korto stayed staring up into the trees, circling around. For a second, her eyes meet mine.

"I heard something." She grumbled, gripping her axe. Cybele looks up, as well as the rest of the team, and she sighs.

"Nothing. Look, forget the Princess. She'll die soon. I know. Even if the sponsors send her something, it's not like they can send her a surgeon. She's done."

I tense up at the statement, holding my hand on my mouth tighter.

The group seems to accept this except for Korto and Demetrius. They're still looking up to find something- anything. Anko comes to Korto and grabs her arm.

"Let's go, Korto." He says. Korto shakes her head as if waking up from a daze and follows without a word.

Demetrius stays.

I look down slightly, and for a moment it looks like he's found me.

Then it gets longer than a moment.

I'm certain he's seen me, because he's staring straight at where I am. My eyes widen in fear and I begin to move back, but then he does something I don't expect him to do.

He lowers his crossbow and shakes his head quickly.

My hand comes down and I reach for my knife in my pocket just in case it's a trap, but he proves me wrong again.

He walks away to the Careers.


	42. Mockingjays

**A/N: This will be finished. Thank you to those who keep following from the beginning, and thanks to those who just found us! Keep on following this story, there are quite a few twists and turns to keep up with :) Again, thank you so so much! Now, a much anticipated chapter below:**

* * *

><p>I scampered slowly to my branch, heaving breaths. My back on the trunk, I whimpered as I pulled my leg onto the full length of the branch, my heel and calf burning. My hands shaking, I rolled up my pant slowly, then stopped as a pang of pain hit me. I yelped. My hand shook as I saw the fresh blood on my fingers. I looked down and saw the severity of the wound. I started to pant pantingly, tears burning my eyes.<p>

Turning my leg over, I saw the ripped khaki pant leg drenched in blood and dirt, and parts of my skin were already handing off. Running from the middle of the back of my thigh to the middle of the back of my ankle, getting up to the tree was a challenge, but necessary. I reach steadily with a quivering hand to remove some dirt on the wound with the sleeve of my jacket, but am pulled back when the slightest touch to the wound makes me lose feeling in my entire leg. I bite my lip harshly, holding in a scream. Curse Anko for trying to sharpen and curve his knife in the fire before my escape.

I look behind me, grabbing my backpack, and take out the jug of water I had filled with the careers. Full, thankfully. I unscrewed the top and brought it over to my leg, praying for relief. It was torture.

The cool water rand down the sides of my calf, and I had to pat gently on the leg to get water. I squeezed my eyes shut while I did this, moving my jacket sleeve to the feeling of gunky blood and moss. One I felt little of it, I opened my eyes and peered down. My face fell at the sight of the cut.

Jagged and uneven, the cut goes deep, light, then deep at the last point, on my ankle. I use the other side of my jacket sleeve to wipe away anything left of dry blood, and then stop, staring at the wound.

There was nothing I could do. Maybe pressure it with a cloth, but that was all. I couldn't clean it without infecting it by accident, I couldn't wait for it to close by morning so I could move on because it's just so deep. It was so hopeless.

In defeat, I bonked my head backwards, and the waterworks came.

Not hysterically crying, I cried silently, tears falling and holding in the noises and wailing from heavy crying.

I was an ugly cryer. I knew I was. I realized sponsors weren't going to help me when they saw me, the District One career who seemed so cool running away from the group of careers, President Snow's brave granddaughter, crying in a tree because of a cut on the leg. At least I walked over here, they probably think. They probably think I'm faking.

This fact makes me cry even more, and I bring my good leg up to my stomach, putting my head on my knee. I cried quietly this time, not really caring if another tribute heard me. Tears still running, I put my face in my hands and rested them on my knee, probably staining my face in blood. It didn't matter.

I was alone. I had no allies. No friends. Just five enemies, 2 boys who claim they are madly in love with me, a little girl whose life is still uncertain as of now, and myself in a tree. I'd already been wounded, and it hasn't been too long into the Games.

"I wanna go home," I blubbered quietly, and I was sure only a camera could pick up my voice, "I can't do this."

* * *

><p>The tears stopped coming when I regained reality. Wiping my tears, I straightened my legs, zipped open my jacket and took off my first shirt, tearing off an inch of the golden tee bottom and then folding it neatly into my backpack. From the cloth, I ripped it in half, two strips now. Slowly, I wrapped the golden cloth around my pant, around my calf, first, then the other I used for around my ankle, the two parts still bleeding. A little relieved by the pressure, I grabbed my water jug and spill some over my bloody hands, trying to clean them. I close it again and stuff it into my backpack.<p>

Exhausted, I lean back once more, sweat falling down around my swollen eyes.

A beeping noise scares me, as it faintly moves towards me. I look up and I see a silver parachute falling slowly, oblivious to the branches surrounding its landing.

It's a sponsor gift.

I wait for it to land on my lap because I could not move. My leg had lost feeling and everything was feeling numb. It was a large pouch. I unzipped it open to find a note.

_ It's far from over, Lillianne. A gift from District 12. - C_

District 12!? I sat up and looked to my right, then left with a look of disbelief. Why would - how - why?

I turned over the card and the closest thing to an explanation read:

_Follow the mockingjays. _

I clenched the card in my hands and they started to shake. I went back into the pouch to see a syringe with liquid and a needle.

I let out a breath, then two, then three, and tears began to well into my eyes. Covering my mouth, crying noises attempt to escape and I look up to the sky and smile with gratitude. How could I possibly thank these people?

There was no time to answer, because the mockingjays began to sound. They sing a melody very foreign to me, because its not the four tone tune Katniss sang in the 74th game. Its a song.

"_Are you, are you, coming to the tree, where I told you to run so we'd both be free_ - "

I grab a knife quickly as I hear whispered singing approach me. It was in the trees, because it sounded fearfully close. I look around, grabbing a second knife with my left and holding my arms out on either side.

"_Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be_ -"

My eyes widen and I stop breathing. I knew that voice.

"If we met, a mid-"

In a hoarse, almost silent whisper, I forced it out. "_Alex."_

The singing stops. Tears are welling in my eyes as I look around for him. I cover my mouth with one of my hands as I realize I might have just jeopardized myself, but it was Alex's voice, I know it to be true and I just can't spare the thought that he could be in danger too if he finds me and I just don't know what I'd do with myself if he found -

"Lilly?"

-me.


End file.
